


It Had To Be You

by im95notdead, redhead_robin



Series: The 1940s [3]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: 1950s, Alternate Universe - Mob, Captivity, Deaf Clint Barton, F/F, Gun Violence, Irish Steve Rogers, Italian Tony Stark, Knife Violence, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Mild Sexual Language, Period-Typical Homophobia, Russian Bucky Barnes, just one instance a detailed method of torture (it will be noted at the beginning of that chapter), lots of fluff to come, mafia au 1940s, mild torture/abuse, normal people, we promise there is sunshine after the rain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:40:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 46,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29268852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/im95notdead/pseuds/im95notdead, https://archiveofourown.org/users/redhead_robin/pseuds/redhead_robin
Summary: Life never promised to be boring for Tony or Clint but as Thanksgiving nears and the two prepare to finally meet, the unthinkable happens - they're kidnapped by a powerful enemy of both James and Steve, their notoriously dangerous and short-tempered partners.Steve and James will move heaven and earth to find their fellas and, when they do, there will be no mercy for the man who took them.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton, Maria Hill/Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: The 1940s [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1560136
Comments: 59
Kudos: 74





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the third installment of The 1940s series. Thank you to everyone who has read along, commented, and stuck around up until now! We appreciate you all so much and hope you enjoy this! 
> 
> As always, I'd recommend starting from the beginning with The Way You Look but hey, if this is the first one you find, welcome.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite Steve and James’ requests and suggestions for heightened security, they must reluctantly accept that they’re dating equally stubborn and persuasive men. Unfortunately, this is one time Clint and Tony should’ve listened.

Steve sat in the backseat, drumming his fingers on his thigh. He knew this wasn’t the brightest idea he had had in his twenty-eight years of living but he couldn’t stand the fact that James was obviously keeping this from him and he couldn’t see any reason why he should. If he could sit on that couch and tell Steve intimate details about their time apart, this shouldn’t have even been an issue. 

Steve turned his head back to look into the diner but he couldn’t see Clint and Natalia from where they were parked. He regretted that that was how he had met Natalia for the first time and he hoped he would get a second chance. She didn’t seem particularly forgiving but looks could be deceiving. 

It had been ten minutes. Steve had never been to the Falcon Diner before but Clint seemed to be a close friend of the owner so Steve didn’t think it should have been taking that long. He checked his pocket watch. 

“Dugan.” 

“Yes, Cap?” 

“Go in and see what the hold up is.” 

Dugan got out of the car and headed inside, going straight for the booth where they had been and freezing when he saw that it was empty. He turned around, looking for them, looking for Natalia’s deep red hair but he didn’t see either of them. 

Sam passed by him, taking food to another table and Dugan stopped him. 

“Where did they go?” 

Sam shrugged. “No clue. I was in the kitchen when they left.” 

“Dammit,” Dugan complained, heading back out to deliver the bad news. He got in the car and sat there for a second before he said, “They’re gone.” 

“Where is  _ gone _ ?” Steve said, a vein in his forehead extending. He was mad at himself for not having seen this coming. He should’ve known anyone James would fall for had to be a resourceful person. 

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes and sighing loudly. “Let’s check the bar.” 

They drove down the block until they reached a bar. Clint had said it was only a few blocks down so there was a good chance this was it. Jones got out this time and went in, coming back to the car with the same expression of dread that Dugan had. 

“He’s not there. Only some of his employees,” Jones reported. 

Steve ground his jaw. “Let’s go home.” 

Back at the office, Steve paced behind his desk, hands clasped together behind his back. He was waiting for the call. He knew—he wasn’t sure how but he knew—that Clint and Natalia were with James. He knew they would probably tell James what had happened. He also knew James was going to be furious but it was a consequence he was willing to endure because the longer James didn’t tell him, the more important this felt. 

“Cap,” Dugan said, opening the door for Tony, a tray in his hands with the lunch he had prepared on it. 

Steve turned, his expression deadly but softening instantly when his eyes fell on Tony. He let out a deeply frustrated sigh and dragged a hand down his face. 

“Hi, love. Thank you, Dugan.” Dugan nodded and closed the door behind him, leaving Tony and Steve alone. Steve came around the desk to sit on the couch, patting the cushion beside him. 

Since Steve had been back home, things had gone back to something Tony was willing to call normal, despite how foreign parts of it still felt. He had a job that didn’t strain him physically and he enjoyed three meals a day thanks to Sarah and her delicious cooking. She was still upset that Tony ate as little as he did but she accepted it, for now at least. Tony got to sleep next to Steve every night in his bed and his arms. Benni was doing great in school, was smiling, and had grown a lot. 

Unfortunately, it was also normal to see Steve upset or glaring daggers. Tony put the tray of sandwiches and coffee down on the table and sat down next to him. 

“ _ Tesoro _ , who was mean to you?” he asked sweetly, one hand on Steve’s thigh and the other in his hair. This was normal too. Being able to touch Steve, call him sweet nicknames, and kiss him. It was his favorite part of his new-normal. 

Steve sighed again, letting out some more tension and stress. He put his hand on top of Tony’s and with his other he pulled him in close and kissed him slowly, pulling away reluctantly after a moment. 

He held Tony’s face between his hands and pressed another quick kiss to his lips. “I needed that,” he said, touching their foreheads together. He sat back and said, “It’s James. There’s something important he’s not telling me.” 

Tony rested his hands on top of Steve’s, looking into those blue eyes of his. “I see,” he said and kissed the tip of Steve’s nose. “He’ll tell you sooner or later. Or did you do something he might think was dramatic?” 

Steve chuckled. “Uh-oh, I think you know me too well.” He reached for his coffee and took a sip before he spoke, still looking at the coffee now that he was just the tiniest bit ashamed of his actions. Especially when he stopped to think about how he would feel if James had done it to Tony. “I may or may not have ambushed James’ fella this morning to see what he knows.” 

Tony kept his hand on Steve’s back while he stared into the dark liquid. “ _ Steve! _ ” Tony said with a heavy sigh. “Why? You guys just started talking again.” He bit back another sigh, knowing that it wouldn’t help anyone if he told Steve what he likely already knew—that James wouldn’t like it and that it would probably mean two steps back with his closest friend. That wasn’t what Steve needed. 

Steve lifted both hands to his face, his coffee back on the table again. “I  _ know _ ,” he groaned into his hands. It was stupid and impulsive and he was fairly certain James was getting the whole story from Clint right now. 

Or not. He wasn’t sure. Clint didn’t seem the type to run home and tattle but that didn’t mean James wouldn’t pick up on something wrong. 

“So… has he called yet?” 

“Not yet. He’s probably too angry. Not like I got anything out of him anyway. He managed to slip away before I could even ask.” 

Tony took Steve’s hand into his and pressed a kiss on the back of it. “If it is that important, he will come to you and talk to you about it. What’s done is done. Are you hungry?” 

Steve exhaled slowly. Tony never failed to be a source of peace. He looked over at the food, then at Tony and then over at his desk where his phone sat, still not ringing. He had overstepped. Maybe he was the one who needed to reach out first. 

“A little,” he admitted. He would give it another ten minutes. He reached for the sandwich and took a bite, chewing slowly. “Delicious as always, love.” 

They ate slowly, sitting close to each other. In more private circumstances, Tony would have made himself comfortable in Steve’s lap but this wasn’t the place to take risks in. 

“Do you ever get out of this town? Take a trip with your mom?” Tony refilled his cup and then turned back to look at Steve. The idea of them going away somewhere nice was rather tempting if he was completely honest. They both had been through a lot these past months. Even though Tony wouldn’t quite admit to it and whenever he thought about it, he tended to hide his left hand that was still scarred from the burns Howard had inflicted on him. 

“Haven’t in a long time,” Steve said, slightly distracted as he continued to watch the phone. “Not together at least. Ma goes back to Ireland a lot. Visits friends.” He turned to Tony, a soft smile on his face. “Why? You wanting to take a trip?” Steve lifted his hand to cradle Tony’s face with it, stroking his thumb gently across his cheekbone. “Any places in mind?” 

Tony leaned into Steve’s big, warm hand and closed his eyes to enjoy it fully. “Hmmm, I see. You know… she could take Benni with her over summer break next year. We could go somewhere else.” He turned his head to kiss Steve’s palm. “I’ve only ever been to Italy once or maybe twice and I barely remember those trips. Other than that I’ve never left New York.” 

“I think a trip just the two of us would be just what the doctor ordered,” Steve said, grinning. With the hand holding his face, he guided Tony forward and kissed him again, tasting coffee and something that was entirely just Tony. He broke the kiss with a heavy sigh again. 

He couldn’t shake the bad feeling gnawing at him. It was like a weight tied around his neck. Something was wrong and that only became more apparent the longer James refused to tell. The fact that James had not called to rip Steve a new one meant he really did not want to talk about this. 

“Love, I… hold that thought, okay? I have to call James.” 

“Alright,” he said, not liking that Steve’s mood shifted again. “You want me to leave you to it?” 

“No, you’re welcome to stay,” he said, heading over to his desk and calling James. When the call connected, he heard the furious way James said his name and confirmed his suspicions. James  _ was _ pissed but refusing to call. 

Steve started out trying to make peace for what he had done but being the stubborn man that he was talking to an equally stubborn man, that didn’t last long and soon they were both snapping at each other. 

“Four o’clock? Why don’t we just talk about this right now. I can be there in thirty minutes. It’s been long—”

“Because any earlier and I won’t have calmed down enough to not stab you,” James warned him and Steve decided not to poke at his angry friend any longer. Sure James was withholding seemingly important information but Steve had overstepped by going after Clint. 

“Fi— _ asshole _ ,” Steve complained in Irish when James hung up on him before he could even finish his sentence. He wasn’t really angry with James and he knew they had survived much worse arguments in the past—this was barely an argument to begin with—but still he was annoyed. He ran a hand through his hair, dropping his hands to his hips as he looked over at Tony. “I’m going to go see him in an hour. I won’t be long.” 

Tony listened and watched closely but there was nothing for him to do. Steve got angry easily and he was just as stubborn as James and that certainly didn’t help anyone. 

“Alright, I’ll be here going over some stuff.” He was well aware that it wasn’t his place to be there and if he was completely honest, he didn’t want to know what was going on. “Come home soon, okay? And try not to punch James.” 

Steve came back over to the couch, glancing at the door quickly and then deciding  _ screw it _ . He pulled Tony onto his lap, wrapping his arms around him, and burying his face in between his shoulder blades. He raised his head but only enough that now his nose was pressed against the silky soft baby hair on the back of his neck. He pressed a kiss there. 

“I’ve still got thirty minutes,” he said softly, his arms around Tony tightening as he hugged him. “We can finish eating. Haven’t seen you all morning.” 

“Hmmm, thirty minutes is plenty of time if you want,” Tony said in a rather suggestive tone, knowing well what it did to Steve. 

Steve chuckled, suddenly feeling too warm for his jacket and pressing more kisses to Tony’s neck. His hands traveled down Tony’s slender frame and fiddled with the fastening on his pants. 

  
  


Dugan opened the car door and Steve stepped out, straightening his waistcoat and putting on his hat. He looked up at the huge building, eyed a few of James’ men who stood outside smoking and talking. 

They glanced his way and immediately diverted their gaze. Jones stayed in the car as Dugan and Steve headed inside, going up to James’ main office where he had said he would like to meet. 

The closer he got to his office, the worse and more prominent that ominous feeling became and the more grateful he was for Tony’s libido. At least he had something good to focus on to keep his mood from plummeting completely. 

Steve knocked on the door and Dmitri opened it, nodding politely to Steve and giving Dugan a small smile. 

James was sitting at his desk but he moved to the couch and motioned for Steve to join him on the one across from it. James crossed his legs and raised a hand to his face, resting his lips on his fingers as if willing himself to go about this calmly. 

Before either of them said anything, James looked up at Dugan and then Dmitri. “If you two wouldn’t mind waiting outside.” It wasn’t a question, wasn’t even a request, and Dugan and Dmitri immediately excused themselves. 

When the door shut, James turned his cold glare on Steve who, to his credit, hadn’t said anything yet. 

“Before we even touch on the subject you demand to be told about, we’re going to talk about what you did, Steve.” 

Steve cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. I never should’ve done that.” 

“Damn straight you shouldn’t have. If I had gone after Tony for information, which I wouldn’t have, you would be trying to give me a black eye right about now.” 

“That’s true,” he agreed. 

James inhaled deeply, trying to remember his promise to Clint not to lose his temper with Steve. Clint was irritated but no harm had been done. James thought it was sweet how much Clint cared about the preservation of James’ friendship with Steve. 

He exhaled finally and said, “Anyway, let’s discuss the real matter.” 

Steve sat up and leaned forward. “Yes. Let’s.” 

“You know the mayoral candidate? Laufeyson?” Steve nodded. “Well, he hasn’t been as pliant as I would’ve liked. A few weeks ago he had Clint followed after coming to his bar to get information on me. Clint got away. Almost as easily as he did from you this morning.” The corner of James’ mouth lifted in a smirk and Steve rolled his eyes. 

Again, James was hitting Steve with a lot of information in a short amount of time and Steve was a little lost but focusing on the important parts. “He knows about you and Barton?” 

“No. But he knows we are acquainted. He’d seen me at the bar.” 

“Why would he be trying to get information on you?” 

“To give to whoever he’s working for.” 

Steve’s eyes widened and James leaned forward as well now, wanting to keep his voice as low as possible. He told Steve everything in the minutest detail, not leaving out a single thing about this situation. 

Once everything had been explained, Steve remained quiet for a moment, processing and figuring out what this would mean for him. 

“And this wasn’t information you thought should be shared with me? Do you not see how this affects me?” 

“Of course I do or did you miss the part where I said if they’re coming after me, they’re coming after you?” 

Steve ground his jaw. “Then why wait to tell me?” 

“Because you act without thinking. Going to see Clint at that diner is case in point. If whoever this is has eyes on Clint, now he knows there’s some connection between the two of you. And now there’s a  _ definite _ target on Clint’s back  _ and _ Natalia’s who wasn’t even involved in this to begin with. All thanks to you, Steve,” James snapped.

“Well, had you told me earlier, I wouldn’t have had to. If someone found the connection between you and Clint, I’m sure they know about mine with Tony. It’s not right that you kept this from me.”

“Just like it wasn’t right for you to tell me about Rumlow and his threats to expose you  _ after _ you shot him point blank at Stark’s old deli?” James countered. “Move on from this part of the issue so we can figure this out together or leave.” 

Steve huffed angrily, looking away. “Fine. What’s your plan?” James relaxed, standing to take a folder out of his desk drawer and hand it to Steve. “What’s this?” 

“Not quite a plan but the beginnings of one. These are my suspects.” 

Steve opened it, flipping through photographs and documents. He recognized a few faces, others seemed familiar but he couldn’t place them and one was too familiar for comfort. 

“You really think… him?” Steve tapped on one photo in particular. 

“Sure as hell do. In fact, he’s one of my top suspects. Got a problem with that?” 

“Not at all. You know I’ve never liked the bastard.” 

“Exactly. And he’s never much liked us.”

“Before we start on plans, what are you doing to keep Clint safe?” 

“Everything.” 

  
  


Steve walked into his home, a little wet from the pouring rain outside, and leaned against the wall. It wasn’t like he didn’t expect his life to be like this. It was more that he wouldn’t mind a month or two without a huge, life-threatening issue. That would be nice. 

That holiday away with Tony somewhere remote was sounding nicer and nicer as the day dragged on. He couldn’t believe this morning he had approached Clint at the diner. It felt like the day had dragged on for a week. 

He shrugged out of his jacket and hung it up, heading upstairs to change and then coming back down to find Tony. He wanted to see his mother and Benni, but really he just wanted to carry Tony to bed and hold him in his arms where he knew he was safe and no one could touch him. 

The worst part of this all was the fact that someone somewhere might be targeting Tony. That thought was driving Steve crazy, just playing over and over in the back of his head, making Steve’s hand twitch like he wanted to grab his gun. He knew James was feeling the same way. He could hear it in his voice and in his plans that James was just as protective of Clint and would do whatever it took to keep him safe, so Steve could understand James’ reasoning for keeping it to himself. Didn’t mean he liked it, but he understood. He would do the same if it meant keeping Tony safe. 

He found everyone in the kitchen eating and he came in and pressed a kiss to Benni’s hair, a kiss to Sarah’s cheek, and then one to Tony’s lips before he sat down at his usual place at the head of the table. Sarah eyed him and then stood to make him a plate and sit it down in front of him, Steve, who had closed his eyes, looked up and thanked her, his gaze going to Tony. 

“You almost done, pet?” Sarah asked Benni who nodded. “Why don’t we have dessert in the living room, hm?” He nodded and she tousled his hair. She stood and brought his plate to the sink, putting a piece of her banana bread on a plate for them and heading out of the kitchen, Benni following happily behind her. 

Tony watched Benni and Sarah go and scooted closer to Steve, offering him his hand.

“You look tired,” he observed, worried about the damp strands of hair falling on Steve’s forehead even though Tony kept combing them back. “Eat a little, hm? I’m right here.” It wasn’t a lot he could offer but he knew that Steve, not unlike him, needed as much physical contact as he could get. 

Steve just wanted to crawl in bed but he ate because he knew he was hungry and because it would make Tony happy. 

He ate half his plate before he spoke, sitting back in his chair and washing it down with some water. 

“How was your afternoon?” he asked him, just wanting to hear Tony’s voice and get his mind off of everything else for a minute. 

Tony sipped his water slowly, holding onto Steve’s hand. He told him about his rather uneventful afternoon but he kept finding something to talk about. At one point he even talked about the chapter Benni and he read. All he did was wait until Steve gave him a sign that it was enough or that he wanted something else. For him, Tony would always find something to say. 

Steve nodded along, not talking much though Steve rarely did so this wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. When he had finished as much food as he could manage in his churning, anxious stomach, he pushed it away and turned his full attention on Tony. 

“Would you be alright to call it an early night, love? We don’t have to sleep right away, I just need some alone time with you.”

Tony looked to the dishes and felt bad for leaving it to Sarah and Benni but Steve was his priority. “I need a shower first. Would you like to join me?” 

Steve followed Tony’s gaze to the dishes. “If you want, we can do those first.” 

“You’re more important,” he said, kissing his cheek and getting up with him. On their way up he told Benni in Italian to help Sarah with dishes before going to bed himself. 

They undressed after Tony ran some warm water, the bathroom warming up with steam. They showered together, Tony massaging Steve’s back after washing it. Some nights this was all they wanted, all they needed too. 

Once dry and in fresh pyjamas they curled up in their large bed, Tony in Steve’s arms pressing light kisses on his neck and collarbones. Steve’s strong arms around him felt possessive, like he would never let go ever again. Something about that scared Tony because it could only mean that Steve was in danger. 

Steve rolled them so that Tony was laying on top of him and he ran his hands through his soft chocolate hair, tucking one particularly curly piece behind his ear. 

“I love you,” he told him, his tone soft but his eyebrows knitted together worryingly. Steve’s poker face was terrible when Tony was the reason for his worry. “More than anything in the world. Anyone.” He leaned up to kiss his lips and then laid back down. “And that means I’m going to do everything in my power to keep you safe. Even if you don’t like it.” 

“Steve, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?” he asked, his voice shaking. Not because he didn’t trust Steve and his ability to keep him safe but because he felt like something dangerous was happening. 

“Just another day in the life of a mob boss,” he said somewhat bitterly. He knew this was the life he chose, which meant he chose the problems that came with it, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. “Someone is after James, trying to take him down. Everyone in our world,” he said, referring to the organized crime world, “knows we work together. So if they’re after him, they’re after me.” 

“This is different. It feels different from… what happened before.” Tony barely managed to say the words out loud. It wasn’t like he didn’t know that being with Steve was going to involve a lot of worrying. “Are we… are we going to be okay?” 

“James has theories as to who it could be. Some are more worrying than others. Right now, I honestly don’t know but the main thing is this: whoever it is, they went after Clint. James’ fella. Means there’s a good chance they’ll try the same thing with you and I’m not about to let that happen.” He paused. “For now, I want Jones and a few other men with you at all times. I’ll have Dugan with me. If anything happens though… I want you, Benni and ma to go away for a while.” 

Tony pushed himself up to look at Steve. When that didn’t seem enough he sat up and crossed his legs underneath him. “I’m never doing that again. We talked about this! I’m not going to leave you alone. Lock me in here but don’t ask me to do that again. One phone call a day isn’t enough! Send your ma and Benni away, but not me!” His voice was shaking again, now out of desperation and anxiety. 

Hearing Tony’s voice rise so suddenly, Steve sat up and pulled him into his arms. It took a try first but he got him over and held him, pressing kisses into his hair. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Okay. You’ll be here with me.” He pressed another kiss to his hair. He knew it was a long shot but he wanted to at least try. Like before, having Tony somewhere Steve knew was safe would give him peace of mind but if it only made Tony’s anxiety greater, it was out of the question. 

“I’m sorry,” he said again but this time it was for more than that suggestion. It was for putting Tony in situations like this in the first place. For taking him from one stressful, life-threatening environment and bringing him into another. He hated himself for it sometimes.

Tony wrapped his arms around him and took a few deep breaths to calm himself down again. “I love you, Steve. Nothing else matters to me. And you come with this life and these threats. That’s a risk I’m willing to take as long as you don’t push me away again.” He pressed a kiss on his neck, loving how warm his skin was. 

“I won’t. You know I only do it to keep you safe,” Steve said, gently reclining them both down onto the bed again, keeping Tony in his arms. “That’s all I have to tell you for now. Let’s end the night on a lighter note. I don’t know if she told you but ma wants your help with Thanksgiving dinner. James and his guy are going to join us.” 

He took another deep breath, still not liking the whole idea of going through all that fear again. “Thanksgiving sounds good. I haven’t had that in years.” Not since his sister died. There was nothing left to be grateful for after that. Even less so after his mother died too. “I’ll help her. It’s still a few weeks away.” 

“Okay,” he said quietly, pressing a kiss to his lips. They were so soft and warm. “Glad to hear.” He didn’t want to dwell on why Tony had stopped celebrating, he knew why or at least had a good enough idea of why. And he didn’t want to talk anymore about the situation. Or James. Or Clint. Something about him still didn’t sit right with Steve. 

Instead he rolled them again so they were both laying on their sides and he kissed Tony slowly, deepening it and continuing until he was breathless and a little lightheaded. His hand that had been resting on Tony’s waist, traveled down his leg and back up again as he pushed all the bad thoughts aside for the moment to focus on Tony. 

And then he remembered something. 

“Hey,” Steve said as he pulled away and rolled out of the bed, going over to the desk in the corner of the room and opening the drawer. “I have something for you. Something I thought you might like. Might want.” 

He came back over to the bed but stood on Tony’s side, turning on the light. He opened the small, red box and pulled out the silver chain, dangling it in front of Tony. He wasn’t even sure how to give them to him. He should’ve thought this through better. How did Clint give them to James without it seeming like an overly arrogant thing to do? He pushed Clint and James out of his mind. This was about himself and Tony. 

“Would… do you want them?” He held the chain with one hand and lifted the other to rest the two little pieces of metal in his palm. “They’re my dog tags.” 

Tony watched Steve with curiosity. Normally, he didn’t like surprises but with Steve he didn’t mind all that much. 

“Would I want something that belongs to you and is very personal but also unique?” he asked and reached out to take them and put them around his neck. The metal was cold at first which made him wince ever so slightly. “Thank you. This means a lot to me,  _ tesoro _ .” 

He kissed Steve’s cheeks and then his lips, his hand resting on the dog tags. They were his. “How did you come up with this?” It wasn’t a serious question but still something that made Tony wonder. “I have nothing for you like this… I’m sorry.” 

“I…” Steve could count the number of people on the planet who had ever seen him blush on one hand. Tony was one of those people as now Steve’s cheeks went a deep crimson. “I saw someone else do it. Made me wonder if you might want mine.” It wasn’t a lie but it wasn’t the  _ whole _ truth. “And giving dog tags isn’t something you expect a gift in return for. These dog tags around your neck mean you’re mine and that is enough of a gift for me.” 

Seeing Steve blush was one the best things he had ever seen. He made sure to memorize just how deep red the color on his cheeks was and how warm they felt. “I’m yours. All yours and only yours,” he whispered between kisses on Steve’s hot skin. 

+

Since that day Tony only ever took the dog tags off when he was taking a shower. More and more frequently he found himself fidgeting with the tags when he was deep in thought or trying to focus on something. It was his very own piece of Steve and that was what made it so incredibly special. 

Just as he promised, Tony only went out with someone watching his back. It made him paranoid and anxious but if it meant that Steve had one less thing to worry about, he would do it. Dugan and Jones took turns picking up Benni either with Tony or Sarah or without them. The weeks seemed to go by a lot slower now. Steve was especially tense and that set the mood for everyone working for him. 

Tony caught glimpses of James when he came and asked to speak to Steve alone. That surely didn’t help reduce Tony’s paranoia or anxiety. Though it lessened his appetite, which Sarah noticed immediately and made sure Tony knew she knew. 

Once they had counted everyone invited to Thanksgiving and had calculated just how much of everything they were going to need, Sarah and Tony headed out to place orders for next week’s festive occasion. Of course Benni, Dugan, and Jones came with them too. 

First, they ordered two medium sized turkeys from the butcher. Next were vegetables, which took much longer because Sarah knew the store owners personally. Lastly, they went ahead and bought enough ingredients to bake two different desserts to make things interesting. 

Sarah was paying for the groceries while the others helped pack them when Tony realized they forgot something. 

“I’ll just go grab it,” he said and turned to get it before either of the men could go with him. It was on another aisle and they had just spent half an hour inside the same store without anything happening which meant it was safe and that meant Tony could quickly grab the canned fruit they would need and be back in a minute. Or so he thought. 

The last thing he remembered clearly was reaching out to grab a can but then everything went dark. He couldn’t say if he had passed out or if someone had put a dark hood over his head. Whatever it was, it happened fast. From far away Tony heard doors open and close, he felt shoving and then a motor running. Was this it? The one thing Steve had tried to protect him from? 

Tony could feel how much faster his breathing was now, how he felt hot and cold at the same time. His head started spinning. Someone had taken him the first chance they got. All the efforts to keep him safe and Tony got careless! How angry he was with himself. 

His hands were bound behind his back and even though his eyes were open, he couldn’t see anything. Even if he could, it wouldn’t be of much help. How was he supposed to get out of this situation? 

For the duration of the drive he focused all his energy and thoughts on Steve. It was either that or panic about a situation he couldn’t change. Steve would find him. He would get him out no matter where it was they were taking him. That was all he could think of and that was all that mattered. 

  
  
  
  


That same morning, Clint was at work despite James repeatedly asking him to schedule one of the others instead. Clint understood the danger, mind you, he just didn’t like anyone thinking they had made him back down in fear. Was it stubborn and prideful and stemmed from childhood trauma? Yes. Was  _ that _ going to stop Clint? Nope. 

James had asked that he at least let Dmitri go with him but Clint had reasoned that, sure, someone might be looking to target him to get to James but there was also the fact that James himself was a target and he knew James could take care of himself but why run the risk of someone catching him on his own and outnumbering him? Even the great James Romanov couldn’t fight off ten against one. At least, Clint didn’t think he could and therefore it was better for Dmitri to stay with him. Plus, James needed someone he knew he could count on, not just any of his men. 

Then James asked Clint if he would consider allowing Alexei or Vitaly to accompany him and just keep an eye out but he had turned that down as well, actually arguing with James. Clint appreciated the concern and, again, he understood the danger but he did not want to be babysat. He was a grown ass man who had survived World War Two, he was pretty sure he could handle a few goons coming in to try and rough him up. 

In the end, they compromised and James and Dmitri both refused to let Clint even leave the house until they had ironclad confirmation that at least Natalia would be there with Clint for the day. James had seen her with Loki and spoken to her privately about her own skill set and he felt  _ alright _ about her being the one to look after their boy. 

Natalia would meet Clint at the bar soon so in the meantime he cleaned and restocked things like he always did, took inventory, nothing special. He checked his watch after what felt like an hour of boring tasks—it had actually been twenty minutes—and then glanced at the door but still no Natalia. She had said she would be there around eleven, so she still had time and he knew that getting to the bar from her new place in the Village wasn’t as easy as the commute from their old apartment in Midtown. 

Clint went out into the bar, hands on his hips, and looked around. It was clean and orderly and ready to go. There was literally nothing else for him to do but open  _ but _ he had made a solemn promise to James not to unlock those front doors for anyone but Natalia and then after she had arrived he could start letting in customers. Seeing as he had fought his incredibly protective and loving guy on literally every other safety measure he wanted to put in place, Clint thought it was only fair that he at least do this. 

But he also got bored easily, so he headed into the back to the storeroom and started cleaning it out, taking boxes and crates out to the back alley to be picked up by the sanitation workers. 

He was stacking boxes of candy—because Clint was the type of bar owner who could sell you a beer and a butterfinger all in the same place—when he heard something behind him fall. He turned to see a fist sailing towards him but ducked, his reflexes working much faster than his brain because  _ what the actual fuck _ ? 

“Who the hell are you?” Clint asked, dodging another hit and throwing one himself, his fist connecting loudly with the man’s ribs and he heard the wind go out of him. 

As he staggered back, Clint used the distance for two things: one, to get a better look at him and two, to grab the first sharp object he could find. Thankfully, he had just gotten in a new shipment of cutlery seeing as he wanted to expand the bar’s menu. He grabbed a butter knife, holding it at his side. 

“ _ Who _ are you?” Clint asked again but the man didn’t speak. He rushed Clint, slamming him into the wall with a speed and force that Clint was not expecting. Clint’s head hit the hard brick and it sent a searing pain radiating out from that spot, blinding him momentarily, but with what little focus he still had, he thrust his hand out and stabbed the knife into the man’s thigh, dragging it across with as much strength as he had. 

The man yelped, moving away again, but quickly coming for Clint again who was ready this time, raising his arm and pushing the knife into his neck. The man continued another half-step in Clint’s direction, reaching up to feel the knife but not having the strength to pull it out. He fell to his knees and then onto his back and Clint watched until he stopped breathing, his heart racing and head still spinning. He reached up and felt blood on the back of his head. It was nothing major but it would definitely earn him a scolding from James later when— 

Clint jerked, startled as the world suddenly went black and then his brain supplied the answers for him. There was something over his face. A mask? A bag? Everything was dark and he was being held by more than one person. They were strong because Clint could barely even squirm in their grasp as he was lifted and carried out. 

_ Dammit. Dammit, dammit, dammit _ , he thought to himself.  _ Should’ve listened to James. _

He was thrown carelessly into what felt like a van. He didn’t try to run nor did he kick and scream. He knew none of that would do him any good. Instead he remained silent and tried to figure out where they were going. 

Based on where they took him after dragging him out the back door, he would say they were headed up Madison Avenue. It felt like ten blocks? Maybe even fifteen, so they were still in Manhattan when they took a right. They definitely stopped at each light after that, putting them on Second Avenue and that’s where things got fuzzy. Clint knew Manhattan like the back of his hand. He was starting to get to know Brooklyn fairly well. Well, south Brooklyn where James and he lived but if he was right, and this was one of those times when he wished he weren’t, they were on the Queensboro bridge heading into a borough Clint knew next to nothing about—Queens. 

The moment the van was back on normal road, Clint had no clue where he was and neither did anyone else but his captors. 

It was fifteen minutes later that Natalia arrived, mad at Clint for making her dig for her key, found the dead man in the storeroom and called James, asking if it was his handy work. 

“What are you talking about?” he asked, his pen hovering over the documents in front of him as a deep dread began to set in. 

“You didn’t kill him?” she asked.

“I haven’t left my office all morning. Describe him.” 

“Expensive suit, well built, Asian. Wait,” she paused and James heard the receiver set down on something as Natalia moved closer to inspect the body. She pushed up a sleeve and saw a tattoo. “James?” 

“Yes.” 

“There’s a tattoo on his wrist. A Japanese symbol.” 

James’ heart felt like it was beating out of his chest. Oh god, oh _no._ He had theories but that didn’t mean he wanted to be right. He wanted to be very, very wrong. He wanted this target on his and Steve’s back to be some cocky amateur. _Oh_ _no_. “Natalia,” he said carefully, slowly. “Where is Clint?” 

She swallowed dryly, horror creeping up in her because she had just assumed that James had tailed Clint anyway, saved him from whatever this was and taken him back to his office until Natalia arrived. “I thought he was with you.” 

“Dmitri is on his way to get you. Stay where you are. Call Maria and make sure she’s alright.” He hung up and called Steve as Dmitri headed out of the room. 

“Yes?” Steve said. 

“Is Tony there?” 

“Um, hello to you too. Would you like to speak to—”

“ _ Steve _ .  _ Where _ is Tony?” He did  _ not _ have time for this and Steve should’ve picked up on that.

“He went out to do some shopping with ma, why? What’s—” 

“Get them home. Now.” He heard Steve say ‘okay’ before he hung up but he couldn’t focus on that. All he could think about was the fact that Clint was gone. James had not done enough and Clint was taken. He never should have let him argue his way out of security.  _ Never _ . If  _ anything _ happened to him, it was all James’ fault. It was James’ fault anyway for dragging him into his ridiculous lifestyle but this? This James should have dealt with better. He had to find him. 

Twenty minutes later, James was pacing back and forth in his office. Natalia was on the couch now with Dmitri beside her. Maria was safe at work and hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary. James wanted Natalia there with him just in case Clint wasn’t the only one they were going to go after. 

And then Steve called back. 

“Tony’s gone,” Steve said, his voice tight and James wasn’t sure exactly what emotion it was that he could hear in Steve’s voice but he knew what it felt like. It felt like absolute, undiluted dread. James almost felt like he was going to be sick from it. The man who took them would not be getting off easy. There would be no quick death. He wouldn’t even be as lucky as Howard. His death would be slow, agonizing and, as long as James was in control, it would go on and on and on. 

“Clint too. But we know who took them. Get here as soon as you can. I can’t leave. Bring Sarah. And Benni. I don’t want anyone out of our sight.” 

“On our way.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint and Tony's captor makes contact. Steve and James use every connection at their disposal and are closing in quickly. But is it quickly enough?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: physical abuse/violence, starvation, sleep deprivation

Clint woke up with a hell of a headache, silence in one ear, and completely disorientated. He sat up. He must have been knocked out at some point but he didn’t remember it. He remembered being carried to the van, he remembered losing his bearings once they got into Queens, and then they had driven for another thirty minutes. He had no way of telling if they had driven in circles and were still in Long Island City or if they had actually gone deeper into Queens. 

He looked around the room, feeling a stinging pain behind his eyes. The room was dark and for the moment he was grateful because of the pounding he felt in his skull but he knew that darkness was intentional. He wondered if he was somewhere surrounded by other buildings that blocked out the light because he could see a tiny barred window at the very top of the back wall with very little light coming through. 

There was also the option that Clint had been out for a couple hours and it was dark now but he didn’t much like that option. He wasn’t ready to not know the day and time just yet. Or maybe that was better. Maybe it would keep him focused on escaping rather than how much time had passed. 

He reached up and felt the back of his head. It was incredibly sore but he didn’t feel any fresh blood, so that was good. At least he wasn’t still bleeding. Next he felt his ear. One hearing aid was just gone, the other still there but he wasn’t sure how much charge was left in it. Probably fell out when they carried him into this… room. 

Slowly, he stood, looking around as his eyes adjusted to the dimness. There was a cot pushed up against the back wall and that was where he had been laying. There was a toilet in the other corner and then by the door he noticed for the first time a small metal tray and a glass jar with a clear liquid that Clint assumed and hoped was water. 

The door was shut and Clint decided not to see if it was locked because he figured there was someone standing outside his door and he wasn’t quite ready for whoever it was to know that he was awake. 

Quietly he picked up the water and sniffed it, deciding to take a chance and sip it. He sighed in relief when it really was water. On the tray he found a bread roll, some potatoes, and a few slices of bologna. Not exactly the five star meals to which he had become accustomed but at least they were feeding him. That was a good sign that they didn’t plan to kill him right away. 

He took the bread and water and went back to his cot, sitting with his hearing-enabled ear towards the door and folding his legs underneath him and eating. His stomach was growling which unfortunately for him wasn’t any kind of useful indication of the passage of time because he was always hungry. He closed his eyes and listened carefully for anything. 

He could smell dust and dirt and metal when he really focused. He removed his other hearing aid and turned it off for the moment to really focus on smell. He couldn’t detect much more but it at least tipped him off to the fact that he was probably in an old warehouse, maybe an abandoned factory. 

Not liking total silence in this situation, he slipped the hearing aid back in and turned it on, hearing the slight shuffle of footsteps outside the door and he tensed but nothing happened. No one came in. 

He hoped James was alright. 

~

  
  


The hood causing the darkness was removed once they reached a small room. Before Tony could take in his surroundings or even who the people were behind him, they were cutting off the ties around his wrists and then he was pushed into a room and the door was locked. 

It was a poorly lit room and the little barred window did nothing to help. Tony decided to sit down on the cot in the corner for now to try and sort his thoughts. He didn’t know where he was or how long they had been driving. The only thing he heard on their way there were freighter horns, which meant they were either close to or had crossed a bridge at one point. 

He took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself down. What the hell was he supposed to do now? He was so panicked and scared that he didn’t even notice the tray with water and food in the corner of his room. There was no way he would touch that as long as he didn’t know it was safe.

On the cot there wasn’t a pillow or a blanket, the floors were tiled and so were the walls and it was cold in the room too. The only thing that seemed to belong was the toilet and the small sink next to it. 

The small window was up too high for Tony to reach or look out from. The door was locked and even if it wasn’t, there probably wasn’t anywhere for him to go, which also meant that he would have to make peace with his current situation. There was no way that Steve wasn’t already looking for him. It was only a matter of time before he got Tony out of wherever he was. 

Suddenly it hit him how ironic this situation was. All he had wanted was to be with Steve while he went through this dangerous phase of trying to find the person threatening them. Now he was the one who had been so stupid to distance himself from the security measures Steve had put in place, which was how he ended up in this cold, bare room far away from Steve. 

Tony rested his hand on top of his shirt, touching the dog tags underneath. 

“Please get here soon, Steve,” he whispered and hugged his knees close to his chest in an attempt to make himself feel warmer and more comfortable. He hated the cold. 

  
  


+

  
  
  


It had been two hours since Clint and Tony had been taken. The first fifteen minutes had been Sarah and Natalia trying to calm Steve and James down so they could think straight. It was a strange way for the two women to meet for the first time but, being the incredible women they were, they made it work. Jones took on the job of keeping Benni entertained, allowing the young boy to take him on a tour of James’ house seeing as he knew it better than Jones did. 

Natalia and Steve still had not formally met. When he came in, she was already there and he went straight for James, angry and stressed, to try and figure out what happened and it almost turned into a fight. Both of them were angry and hurting and scared even if they didn’t own up to it and Steve stormed in and shoved James who was just as distraught as Steve, demanding answers. Clint might have had a good ten years on Tony but that didn’t mean he didn’t have other disadvantages that Tony didn’t have. 

They were  _ both _ in trouble. Someone was trying to hurt James  _ and _ Steve and they had taken Tony  _ and _ Clint. This was no one’s fault except for whatever idiot had taken them and that was what Natalia had reminded them both, pressing herself in between them in a display of courage that not even Dugan and Dmitri were willing to show and forcefully pushing them apart. 

Steve had stepped back, his eyes wide and furious, glaring at Natalia, about to give her a piece of his mind and that was enough to pull James out of his blind fury and keep Steve from snapping at her. 

Sarah had come over at that point and gently guided her son away from James and Natalia to talk to him quietly on the other side of the room as Natalia did the same with James. 

Now they were in the kitchen, papers spread out between them, calming teas provided by Sarah and she was making food as well. She was cooking for three reasons: to calm herself, because she figured if James and Steve were eating they would have a hard time fighting, and because she knew neither of them would remember food and sleep existed until Clint and Tony were back. 

Files Dmitri had compiled and photographs he and his men had taken of one man and those who worked for him were spread out on the table in the middle of them all. Benni was upstairs in the room he had stayed in before at James’, which was filled with books and toys. Sarah would check on him once the food was done. 

“How do you know it’s him?” Natalia asked, sitting between Dmitri and Dugan, all eyes on her now but it didn’t phase her in the slightest. 

Steve wasn’t completely on board with her having so much involvement but James had made it clear that Natalia wasn’t just invested because of how important Clint was to her but that she would also be a huge help. She had the physical skills to be useful as well as good connections. 

“Dmitri and I had narrowed it down to two possible people—Fisk or Bakuto. Neither of them particularly like Steve and myself. Fisk is a child and his issue was with Steve encroaching on his territory. He hates me because I always shut him up when he mentions it. Though Bakuto is different,” James explained. 

“He’s never been a fan of our plan to coexist and he’s certainly never liked that as far as the balance of power is concerned, the scales tip heavily in my and James’ direction,” Steve added, deciding there was no point in fighting Natalia’s involvement anymore. If James said she could help, he would let her help. His energy was needed elsewhere and he just wanted Tony back safe and sound in his arms. 

“And what makes you so sure it’s not some unknown opponent?” she countered, wanting to cover all bases. 

“You know as well as I do how much effort is required to pull off something like this. Especially against us,” James said. “If this were some nobody trying to make a name for themselves there’s no way we would not have at least heard about them or their dealings. You’re almost as connected as I am.” 

She nodded, agreeing. It was true. A job like this required a certain level of earned secrecy. A nobody would raise questions and red flags with anyone they tried to deal with but an established mob boss known for his utter lack of humanity would be able to get done whatever he needed to do without anyone even thinking about questioning him or telling others. 

“So the assumption is that it’s Bakuto based solely on the fact that it was an Asian man I found at the bar?” Natalia ventured. She trusted James and his judgment but she wanted hard proof. 

“It surely rules Fisk out,” Steve said and Natalia turned to him despite still not really liking him. “He’s not just a big whiny bitch, he’s also a racist. Besides, apart from Madame Gao who, last I checked, actually  _ owed _ you a favor, James, no one else has the skill set for an extraction like that. I mean, Dugan never so much as heard a struggle. It was quiet, quick, and incredibly well-coordinated. All things Fisk is certainly not.” 

“What’s the next move?” Dmitri asked and James turned to him, not used to hearing him actually comment during discussions like this. Natalia didn’t really have a place in the hierarchy of it all and while James didn’t see Dmitri as lesser or an underling, Dmitri had always been more of the sit and listen type. 

James was reminded, as he looked at Dmitri’s face and heard the thinly veiled concern, that Clint was his friend too. In fact, he had been Dmitri’s friend years before he was James’ anything. 

James’ expression towards Dmitri softened and he turned to Steve as he said, “We talk to Loki. I think he knows more than he let on that day.”

“And if he doesn’t?” 

“We kill him and one of you will be mayor,” James said casually, gesturing between Dugan and Dmitri. Steve leveled him with a look. They didn’t need a dead mayor on top of everything else. “If he doesn’t know anything, well, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” 

“In the meantime, I’ll start canvassing the area. See if any of the businesses nearby saw anyone come in or out of Clint’s bar this morning,” Natalia offered, waiting, surprisingly, for the go ahead from James who nodded and she pushed up and away from the table, saying a polite goodbye to Sarah before she left the kitchen. 

“Let’s go see Loki,” James said. 

“Jones, stay here with ma and Benni,” Steve said, knowing that Dmitri’s men were keeping guard as well around the perimeter of the house. 

  
  


Loki had upped his security but that still didn’t mean it was capable of keeping Steve or James out, especially not when they worked together. 

“Why did we wait so late?” Steve asked quietly, both of them standing in the small patch of trees located behind Loki’s house. 

“He’s mayor now. He’s busy during the day and surrounded by security detail,” James explained. 

“And?” 

James chuckled and then smiled his signature terrifying smile. “We could have just killed the detail but it’s fun to catch him when he’s asleep. Trust me.” 

Steve smiled and then he and James quickly and silently incapacitated the two men who stood guard behind the house while Dmitri picked the lock and Dugan slipped inside to check for any other security measures like alarm systems or trip wires—Loki seemed the type to have something like that in his home. 

And as it turned out he did. He really had gone all out on his home safety since James’ last impromptu visit. The fact that they had still gotten in with minimal effort made James chuckle and Dugan turned to look at him. 

“You enjoying this?” Dugan asked him as James led the way to the staircase that went to Loki’s bedroom. 

“Not yet but I will soon,” he said over his shoulder, lifting a hand to signal for them to stop. He silently indicated that Steve and Dugan should stay downstairs. Steve frowned but did it, understanding that James obviously knew what he was doing. 

James peeked around the corner and saw that once again the bedroom door was left slightly ajar and the room was dark. He pushed it open gently only to find it empty, Dmitri standing behind him looking over his shoulder into the empty room. 

They turned at the sound of a familiar click to see Loki standing behind them in the hallway in his sleep clothes. Something must have tipped him off and this time he was ready. Or maybe he just didn’t sleep that well anymore. That thought brought James a lot of comfort. 

Loki raised the gun higher, aiming it at Dmitri. 

“It’s almost like you  _ want _ me to hurt you,” James said and Loki’s eyebrows knitted together as a smile spread across James’ face. 

A hand wrapped around Loki’s waist, the other snaking around him to grab a hold of him by his jaw and Steve pulled him close, tilting his head to speak into his ear. “Give Dmitri the gun or I’ll snap your neck.” 

Loki immediately turned the gun around and handed it to Dmitri who unloaded it, tossing the bullets out into the hallway and the gun he threw behind him into Loki’s bedroom. 

Steve stayed where he was, his grip on Loki tightening uncomfortably. 

Loki gestured towards the stairs. 

“Why don’t we discuss this in the sitting room,” he managed around Steve’s fingers pressing down on his windpipe. 

Steve let go and shoved Loki back towards the stairs. James followed while Dmitri and Dugan checked out the upstairs and went through Loki’s documents. 

Loki turned on the lights and sat on the couch, Steve and James taking a seat opposite him. 

“I take it your visit isn’t social?”

“We do  _ not _ have time for your antics,” James snapped, the idea of Clint in some cold, wet room kept flashing in his mind and it was making him irritable. He could imagine Steve was struggling to keep a lid on his worry as well. “What aren’t you telling me?” 

“I haven’t even spoken. What are you—”

Steve’s fist moved before James’ could, whipping out and landing firmly in the middle of Loki’s face, right where James had hit him a few months ago. Loki’s hands came up to his face and he hissed in pain, blood trickling between his fingers. 

“Clint has been taken. As well as someone he cares about,” James said, when Loki was able to focus on them again, gesturing to Steve. “And I’m pretty sure you know more about who took them than you let on the last time I was here.” 

“I told you I never got a name.” 

“We know the name. What does he want?” Steve asked, leaning forward and Loki winced. 

“I—I don’t know. I haven’t heard from him since the election.” 

“ _ Since _ the election? You heard from him since my last visit and said nothing?” Loki swallowed. “Show us.  _ Now. _ ” 

“Here,” Dugan said, handing Steve five letters he and Dmitri had found. Dmitri came around the other side, handed James a folder. 

James took it, slowly turning back to Loki who looked like he knew he was in trouble.

“Start. Talking.” 

“Okay, okay,” Loki said quickly as Dmitri and Dugan took a seat on either side of him, turning to him. “A few months ago, I was approached by a man.” As Loki continued to explain, James’ expression darkened and Loki knew that no matter what he said, that busted nose was not the last bit of pain he would see. 

He continued to explain how a man in a dark suit had sat at his table one day while he was drinking his coffee, it was a short while after Loki had spoken to James about becoming mayor. 

The man wanted to know about Loki’s political aspirations and Loki had attempted to leave but was forcefully sat again by another man. He wanted to know what Loki was willing to do to continue moving up in the world, to which he had said, “Anything.” 

He smiled, said he liked the sound of that, and went on to offer Loki a proposition: if he brought him information on James Romanov, he would make sure that mayor was not the final stop in his political career. That was when Loki asked for proof and the man gave Loki the number to the president’s chief-of-staff, told him to call it later and if he liked what he heard on the other end of that call, to let him know and they could get started. 

“I should’ve killed you when I had the chance,” James said, and Loki noticed the knife that was in his hands now, his knuckles white with how tightly he was gripping the handle. Beside him Steve wasn’t doing any better. He wanted to grab Loki by his greasy hair and toss him off the Brooklyn Bridge. 

“Well, you have the chance now,” Steve said, his voice low and dangerous. Loki felt a chill run up his spine. “And did this mystery man ever tell you his name?” 

“Bakuto.” 

“So you  _ did _ get a name, hm?” James said, twirling his knife slowly. Loki didn’t say anything, not sure what would actually help. 

“And he never told you  _ why _ he wanted information on James?” Steve asked. 

“It’s a power struggle. You have it, both of you, and he wants it.” 

That wasn’t shocking. It was on the list of reasons Steve and James had come up with themselves. Bakuto had always struggled to accept that he wasn’t the most powerful man in the city and Steve and James had never been particularly happy with the way he conducted business. There was no higher moral ground when it came to their lives but that didn’t stop them from making one, and one thing that was off-limits and always would be? Minors.  _ Children _ . 

But not for Bakuto. In fact, they were his target demographic. Young girls he brought over to America only to sell them like cattle and never look back. Too often James’ men brought back reports of young girls no older than fifteen being forced onto street corners to earn their keep. Other times, his men would report bodies found left in alleyways, dumpsters, and every other conceivable place and all the girls always fit Bakuto’s usual type selection. James and Steve found it despicable. 

And that was only the tip of Bakuto’s monstrous iceberg. A part of James and Steve wanted it to be Bakuto because better the devil you know than the one you don’t but it didn’t make the confirmation any easier because they knew exactly the type of person who was holding their beloveds captive and the thought of either of them having even a single finger laid on them—

Steve and James locked gazes for a long moment, silently deciding what to do next. 

“Did you know about the kidnappings?” 

“No.” 

“Did. You. Know. About. The. Kidnappings,” James asked again, enunciating each word carefully, his tone bordering on a snarl. 

“ _ No _ . I didn’t. I swear. Even when he told me to follow Barton, it was only in hopes that he would lead me to you,” Loki told him. “I had nothing to do with him being taken. Or whoever he took from you.” He glanced at Steve. “Are you going to kill me?” Loki asked, tentatively. 

“Not this time,” James said, turning to him slowly. He saw the sigh of relief leave his body. “But if anything happens, that will change.” 

“ _ Anything _ ?” 

“If  _ one _ fucking hair is out of place on either of their heads,” Steve began, holding up a finger, “just know that we’ll be holding you personally responsible. Whatever happens to them, happens to you.” 

“I told you everything I know! I—”

Loki cut himself off as James stood and straightened his waistcoat, taking the two steps to get to the other couch and then just standing over Loki, his hands in his pocket. He looked down at him like someone might look down at a rat on the ground. 

When he spoke, his voice was eerily calm. “There’s a good chance that had you told me this earlier, they would still be here. So just know that what Rogers will do and what I will do will be two separate punishments. I don’t know if you’re religious but if I were you, I’d start praying Bakuto doesn’t lay a hand on them.” 

James held up the folder Dmitri had given him, shaking it lightly. “Anything in here worth reading?” Loki nodded. “And do you know anywhere Bakuto does business?” It wasn’t like he ever invited Steve or James for coffee. 

“Queens. I don’t know where. Just Queens. He mentioned it once,” Loki confessed. He was slowly realizing that perhaps his political aspirations were not that important if he wouldn’t even survive long enough to finish a term as mayor. 

“Queens. Hm.” James turned to look at Steve who raised one questioning eyebrow as he spoke. “Queens is a big place. You positive he didn’t say anything else?” 

“Positive. He said he had to get back, traffic to Queens was always a nightmare.” 

“Let’s go,” James said. “I think I know someone who can help more than this idiot.” 

Steve stood and followed James without another word, shooting Loki one last glare before he was out of sight and he would be lying if he said Loki’s accompanying flinch didn’t bring him at least a little enjoyment. 

“Who do you know?” Steve asked as they walked back to the car, stepping over the bodies of the two security guards. 

“Linda.” 

  
  


“You come to me asking a favor, Romanov? That’s very unusual of you,” Madame Linda Gao said the next day, coming over to sit at the table with James, leaning her cane against the arm of her chair. 

James had told Steve to wait outside. Gao liked James, he knew she did and, as he had said before, after Steve she was also James’ favorite. However, she didn’t care much for Steve. She found him abrasive and demanding. And young. 

James, probably owing to his upbringing, was just the right amount of quiet and refined for her tastes. 

“It is, though this is an unusual situation I find myself in,” he told her. 

“Hmm,” she hummed as one of her men poured her some tea. She tapped two fingers to the table as he finished, a sign of gratitude. “Tea?” 

As much of a rush as he was in, he knew that this was all part of the test. If he passed, he would get information, if he didn’t, he wouldn’t get so much as a word. Having to yield to someone else’s demands was not his strongpoint though he had done it enough times with Gao, and she with him. He was on her territory, he would play by her rules. 

“Yes, thank you.” The man poured James a cup and James as well tapped two fingers to the table, not wanting to disrespect the person from whom he needed information. 

“So what is this favor you need?” 

“Information. On Bakuto.” 

She had lifted her tea to her lips but stopped, her eyes raising to meet James’. “Do you plan to kill him?” 

James hesitated before answering. “Yes. He took someone from me. I have no intention of showing mercy.” He waited, wondering if this would mean she would not do him the favor. He wanted to lie but Gao could smell a lie from a hundred miles away. The only way was the truth. 

She sipped her tea and returned the cup to its saucer. James did the same, waiting patiently but slowly losing his patience as he continued to think about what Clint was going through. It made his heart ache. He desperately wanted to hold him. And he hoped Tony was alright. 

“Good,” she said, reaching for her cane and hitting it on the wooden floor loudly. A door opened and a man came in. She looked up at him, said something to him in Mandarin, and he left again. “Li Qiang will bring you what I have on Bakuto.” 

James felt the relief wash over him like a wave but he maintained his serious demeanor. “Thank you.” 

She eyed him. “There are lines we don’t cross even in this business. Bakuto has crossed them all and then some.” She sipped her tea again and then Li Qiang re-entered, coming over to set down the documents and leave. She pushed the folder towards James. “We have a saying in Mandarin:  _ Life is like an echo. What you send out comes back. _ ” She translated it for James and then continued. “It is past time that everything Bakuto has sent out, comes back to him.” 

James took the folder, not opening it yet. “I agree.” 

  
  


Steve was quiet for most of the ride back and so was James. Dmitri and Dugan, allowing their bosses to set the tone for the ride, remained silent as well. James and Steve could feel the tension in the car, though. Despite the information Gao had provided James with, it had been a day already and no call from Bakuto with demands of any kind. What if this wasn’t a ransom situation but rather a message? What if there was no scenario where Steve and James ever got to see and hold their guys again? They wouldn’t put it past Bakuto. 

“Do you think they’re alright?” Steve finally asked, having had enough of the chilling silence and his loud, unrelenting thoughts. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Tony curled up in some awful place, scared and alone. He clenched his fist, trying to force himself to just think about getting him back. 

James let out a soft sigh, turning to look at Steve and Steve saw the dread in his expression, the worry. “I don’t know,” James said after a long drawn out silence. He didn’t. He had no way of knowing and he wasn’t going to give either himself or Steve the false hope that they were. 

“Do you think they’re together?” 

James let out a soft, humorless snort. “If they are, hell of a way to meet.” 

“I hope they are. I really don’t want Tony going through this alone.” 

“I don’t want that for Clint either. Though knowing how they both are, I don’t think it’ll be much of a friendship right away.” 

Steve nodded, agreeing. “Tony’s not going to trust anyone in that environment with him, no matter who they claim to be.” 

“And Clint won’t hear Tony trying to explain himself even if he does.” Steve looked at James, confusion plain on his face. James tapped his ear. “The power in his hearing aids is good for about forty-eight hours before they need charging again. Without them, he’s deaf.” James swallowed hard, looking out the window because the rush of emotions he felt was too much. 

Steve dropped his head, stared at his hands in his lap. His stomach churned anxiously at the thought of everything Tony might be going through. “I worry about Tony getting enough sleep. It’s taken almost a year to get him to sleep six hours a night. I doubt he’s closing his eyes at all now.” 

“We should’ve done better,” James muttered angrily. He should’ve argued harder with Clint that morning, not letting him out of the house with anything short of a militia following at his heels. “They deserved better from us.” 

“They did. They do. And we will find them and do better,” Steve said firmly, turning to James with that signature ‘Steve Rogers Will Tear The World Apart To Get What He Wants’ look. 

“And when we have them, we’re going to torture that fucker and burn everything he loves to the ground while he watches,” James said. 

  
  


Not long after they arrived back at James’ office and were going over the documents gifted to them by Gao, the phone rang. Dmitri answered, immediately tensing and looking over at James. 

He gestured for him and Steve to come over. Dmitri clicked on the loudspeaker function and the room filled with Bakuto’s unpleasant voice. 

“Romanov, Rogers, long time no speak, as the Americans say. How are you?” he asked casually as though they were old pals arranging a lunch date. Steve and James said nothing. “Hm, not well? That’s too bad. I think I have something you want.” 

James ground his jaw angrily and beside him Steve did the same. 

“What do you want, Bakuto?” Steve asked. 

They were stalling, straining to hear any sound in the background that might help them narrow down his location in relation to the list of buildings owned by him that Gao had provided. A train? A ship? Heavy traffic? Anything. 

“Simply put, I want everything,” he said, his fun, casual tone disappearing, replaced by something more menacing. “And I’m not above hurting your precious heathens to get what I want.” 

James heard the sound of Steve’s knuckles cracking as he clenched his fist. James decided maybe it was time for him to speak instead. 

“What do you expect us to do? Mail you the keys to our offices?” James asked. 

“I’m not opposed to that idea, though I’d much rather start with funds and files.” 

“Files?” Steve asked. 

“Don’t play stupid, Rogers, although with you it may not be playing,” Bakuto said and Steve had to walk away from the phone to keep himself from throwing it at a wall. That certainly wouldn’t help get Tony and Clint back. “Everyone knows information is power. Especially in the times we’re living in. ‘Loose lips sink ships’ and all that.” 

Bakuto cleared his throat. “In the next two hours, I want every file you have on myself and the other bosses. You can leave them with Loki. I’m fairly sure you know his address, James.” 

“That’s all you want?” James asked, looking over at Steve, irritated even more now by Bakuto for drawing this out. 

“Of course not. It’s just the beginning.” 

“And how long exactly do you plan on keeping your hostages?” Steve asked, unable to settle on any other term because he didn’t want Bakuto knowing their names and he certainly wasn’t about to say ‘our fellas’ over the phone for Bakuto to hear. He was most likely recording this entire conversation and admitting to something like that out loud would put Steve and James right back where Steve was this past summer. 

“As long as it takes.” 

Steve looked over at James, raising his eyebrows and James nodded, understanding. 

“You know, I really didn’t expect the two of you to be—”

“Did you hang up on him?” Steve asked, the corner of his mouth lifting. 

“I did. He wasn’t going to give us anything else useful.” 

“He gave us something useful just then?” Dmitri asked. 

“Yes. A lot.” 

“Firstly, Clint and Tony are alive and will stay alive until Bakuto gets what he wants,” Steve said. 

“How can you be so sure?” Dugan wondered. 

“Because,” James began, looking down at the documents and maps from Gao, “he said he would keep them as long as it takes to get what he wants. That means he knows they are his only leverage on us. If he kills them, we have no reason to give him what he wants and there’s nothing else he can take from us.” 

“That he knows of,” Steve added, because Steve was certain he would still be conducting himself in the same manner had Bakuto taken his ma or Benni. Even Dugan. And James would raise hell if Dmitri were taken. Or Natalia, it seemed.

“Ben Grimm, owner of the deli two doors down from Clint’s bar, saw a black delivery van pull into the alleyway around the time Clint was taken. He didn’t actually see him but he thought it was odd for the van to be there, seeing as it was a restoration company van. And,” Natalia said, reading the room as she came in and made her way to the couch, wondering what she had missed, “Teddy Altman, a bagger at the grocery store where Tony was taken, said he remembered seeing the same van in the parking lot.” 

“Restoration company?” Steve and James said at the same time. 

“Any idea where?” Steve asked. 

“Was there an address on the van?” James added. 

She thought back. “Neither of them mentioned one. I can go back and ask—”

“That’s alright. I doubt they would remember. Good job. We’ve had a few breakthroughs ourselves,” James said, motioning for her to come over. 

“This is good,” Steve said, holding up one of the documents. They had to call in Vitaly because a lot of the information was written in Mandarin and, for a reason James could not fathom, Vitaly spoke Mandarin. At least he was finally less boring. 

“It is. Seems she’s been stockpiling information on him for a while.” 

“Guess we aren’t the only ones who hate him.” Steve turned the page he was holding over. It was a map of Queens with areas outlined in red and marked with a symbol meaning Bakuto’s name. Well, it actually said  _ biàntài _ , which in Mandarin meant something along the lines of pervert or low-life. Very fitting. 

“No,” James said, a small smile on his lips, “we aren’t. Natalia, did either man happen to catch the name of the restoration company?” 

“Grimm said it was something with an M. Something ‘and sons’ but he couldn’t remember. Altman didn’t see a name though he said it was gold lettering on the van,” she provided.

“Doesn’t narrow it down as much as I would have liked but it’s a start,” James said, turning to Steve. “Thinking what I’m thinking?” 

Steve exhaled heavily, dragging a hand down his face and wishing for Tony’s incredibly strong and perfectly made Italian coffee. “Queens is too damn big.” 

“Let’s make it small. Dmitri, take Dugan and bring down the maps from the storeroom as well as a phone book. We have a lot of calls to make.” 

“I think I know someone who can help,” Natalia said with a smile. 

+

It was the second day of not being home that Tony gave in to his hunger. He ate the potato slowly, looking at the window. It was brighter outside than it had been a few hours ago. The difference wasn’t too big but with nothing else to focus on, he noticed. 

Day three was the first day he actually saw someone open the door. Apparently they weren’t just sneaking into his cell and leaving food anymore. 

“Don’t move a muscle,” a second Asian man standing in the door frame hissed. Even though they were also on the smaller side, Tony knew that he had no chance to win. Instead he watched one of them open the window and then throw a blanket on the cot next to him. Seldom had he been this happy to see some protection from the cold. 

The blanket was the nicest thing that happened. From there everything went downhill. Every day he was woken up in the loudest way possible and they seemed to enjoy seeing Tony jump. Every time they brought the food—usually not more than two plain potatoes with a few carrots or some peas on the side—they insulted him. 

It must have been around the two week mark when Tony noticed how thin he had gotten already. And wasn’t that just something? He hadn’t even noticed how much he had gained in the past few months in Steve and Sarah’s care. 

The jacket he had been wearing when they took him was now his pillow, the blanket was always around his shoulders and day by day the temperature seemed to drop. Tony had forgotten how to survive with little to no food or how to endure the cold. Steve had spoiled him. 

Every day Tony clung to the dog tags, praying that Steve would come get him soon but with every passing day that hope died a little more. The thought that he might never see him again was easily one of the most terrible things he had ever felt. Shouldn’t he be grateful that he got to love and know what it feels like to be loved back? There were people who weren’t that lucky. 

There was also the certainty that Benni would be taken care of and Tony wouldn’t have to worry about leaving him in the care of someone abusive. That was more than he had had a year ago around this time when things started getting worse with Howard. 

A year ago Tony had been eating just as little as he was now but he had more blankets thanks to his late mother. The deli had given him something to do, whereas now all he could do was worry and overthink. 

Tony tried to remember the last time he had seen Steve. Was it when Steve went to the office after breakfast? No. Just before Sarah and Tony headed out to order food for Thanksgiving, he made sure to stop by, kiss Steve on the cheek while he was talking on the phone, and scribble an ‘I love you’ on a blank page in Steve’s private notebook. 

That was it. That had been their last interaction. It was of some comfort that his last words to Steve were about how he felt. His last interaction with Benni was allowing him to get a lollipop. And with Sarah it was remembering the canned peaches they forgot to get. Canned peaches had been the reason why he left the group and ultimately, they were the opening for those men to take him. 

Tony flinched violently when the door was thrown open. Was it morning already? 

“I’m getting sick of waiting!” the man growled but Tony wasn’t sure those words were even meant for him. He didn’t even see the punch to his face coming, only felt the sudden force on his cheek. Before he could process what happened, another punch landed right in the middle of his face, soon followed by a third. 

Was this it? They were tired of waiting and that’s why they were going to kill him? 

Tony waited for another punch that never came. Instead, he was yanked up and pushed back down to sit up on the cot. There was a flash and then the two men spoke in a foreign language with each other. They sounded angry. If only Tony knew what was going on! 

From the names and insults they were calling him in English, Tony knew they knew about Steve and his relationship. Was that the reason why he was here? What good would that do? Wouldn’t it make more sense to just kill both of them? Nothing seemed to make sense anymore. 

When the men left and the door was locked again, Tony dared to move again. His face was throbbing. There was the all too familiar taste of blood on his tongue. With that came the memories and flashbacks that made everything even worse. 

~

Clint ate most of the food each day, knowing that if they were going to poison him they would have done so by now. He rarely slept, trying during the day to reach the tiny window located high up on the wall in his room and at night he sat by the door, his head pressed to it to feel for any kind of movement. 

His hearing aid battery had died on day two and since then he had been in total silence. It was nearing the two week mark and Clint was slowly unraveling. He hadn’t been without hearing aids since those first weeks coming home from the war when he and Natalia were trying to earn enough money to buy him a pair. 

Memories of coming home after the war combined with being in a dark, cold room with no clue where he was, what time it was, or if someone was coming was not putting Clint in a good place. Around day three—he was counting days by sleeps which were only about two hours anyway so it wasn’t the best measurement method—the men started visiting and Clint never had any warning. 

In fact, the first time, the door had hit him as it opened because he was on the floor beside it, straining his ears to hear something, anything. They had come in and he knew they were throwing insults at him but he couldn’t hear them so he just stared. It irritated them and he didn’t see them again for a few days until they came back. 

They brought him a new bottle of water but no food. That had been the pattern the last few days. Water, no food. The first few days had been at least two meals a day, then it tapered off to one and by the end of week one, Clint was just getting water. 

A few days ago, he had gotten water and a bread roll. He didn’t eat it right away, figuring that they would start starving him again soon so he saved it, eating half and storing the other half underneath the blanket they had brought. 

He couldn’t see himself, there was no mirror, but he knew he had lost a few pounds at least already. Between the stress and starvation, he hoped there would be something left to him by the time James found him. 

A few days later, they came again. This time it wasn’t just words they were throwing, not just insults. It was punches and kicks, trying to get a reaction out of him. Though, no matter what he was feeling, Clint wasn’t a quitter and he hadn’t always made the smartest decisions in life so why start now? 

So he fought back, throwing out punches but they weren’t quite as strong as usual. He was exhausted and hungry and despite landing a few good blows, he was quickly tossed on his ass by the two men in his room and hit again. 

Clint was rubbing blood out of his eye that was dripping down from a cut on his forehead when a flash went off. When Clint looked up they were laughing, saying something about him but he couldn’t read their lips. He assumed it was a different language or maybe his brain was just too worn out. 

The door was shut and, he assumed, locked and then he was alone again. They shoved food into the room about an hour later—a bread roll and some cold vegetables—but Clint had no appetite, so he did what he had been doing a lot lately. He took the bread and he tucked it away underneath the blanket they had brought, deciding he might eat the vegetables later. 

In the back of his mind, he knew they were taking pictures of him bleeding and thin to send to James. Giving him incentive to give them whatever it was they wanted from him but all he could actually focus on was trying not to have a panic attack. He was determined to hold himself together. He  _ knew _ James would come for him. He knew it and he just had to keep it together until then. 

  
  


+

  
  
  


“So far we’ve narrowed it down to seven warehouses,” Natalia said, coming into James’ office where Dmitri was at his desk scratching off numbers and putting an X over locations on the map that were still in business and therefore not the restoration company they were looking for. 

They needed one that was out of business but the phones still worked. Obviously Bakuto had bought it out and was keeping Clint and Tony at the location, using the company van to decrease chances of anyone thinking anything weird about it being parked around the city and more than likely, it was the location from which Bakuto called them. 

With help from Natalia’s girlfriend, Maria, who worked for the phone company as a senior switchboard operator, they had managed to get through the calls at a pace that kept Steve and James from losing it because, as it turned out, not only was Queens bigger than anyone needed it to be but also had more warehouses and restoration companies than any of them thought strictly necessary. The fact that they didn’t even know what kind of restoration made their search incredibly broad. 

Maria had pulled together a group of her most trusted fellow operators—the Carter women, Angie Martinelli, and Melinda May-Coulson—and, with permission from her boss Nick, who said “I don’t care as long as calls are being made,” they were able to take a chunk of the numbers Natalia and the others needed to go through and cut out the middleman—themselves—getting connected much faster. 

“Seven?” Dmitri asked. “Which did we eliminate?” 

“The warehouse in Ditmars.”

“Alright,” he said, crossing it out. “James, Dugan, and Rogers are working on the numbers in Woodside.”

“Woodside is taken care of,” Steve said, coming back into the main office, James and Dugan following behind him. They had been in a different office using the other phone. 

Dmitri looked up, raising an eyebrow expectantly. “Nothing,” James said, his annoyance obvious. 

He and Steve had been even more on edge the last day after receiving a package from Bakuto yesterday. They had sent a dummy file to placate him while they searched for wherever he was holding Clint and Tony. 

They knew Bakuto was smart but he had picked up on the missing information faster than they had hoped and in retaliation, he had sent them photos of both Clint and Tony, bruised and bloody, looking incredibly tired and malnourished. 

It was definitely more of a blessing than a curse for Steve and James to be able to recognize exactly what was being done to them. They had done it many times to others. Keeping them awake or at the very least, waking them periodically to disrupt their rest, most likely feeding them incredibly small amounts or not at all. 

From what they could see the room was dark, small. Tony’s was different to Clint’s. Clint’s was concrete, only a tiny window at the very top of the wall for ventilation and light. Tony’s was tiled, likely even colder but with a larger window that was still out of his reach. 

The only consolation to be found, although incredibly small, was that it didn’t seem that Bakuto or his men had touched Clint or Tony prior to taking the photos. The bruising was fresh, not dark enough yet, and the blood seemed to still be flowing, not dried and stuck to them. So Bakuto had told the truth. He would keep them until he got what he wanted. 

James and Steve had each taken some time apart when they received the photos yesterday. Clear-headed and somewhat calmed, they had rejoined the group that afternoon. Steve’s knuckles were scraped and bruised and he had snapped at Sarah when she insisted he clean and bandage them. This one time she had left him alone, understanding that the last thing he needed was his mother nagging him. 

James was going on day four of one meal a day and Dmitri and Natalia were both worried but he refused to take more time than he needed for “frivolous things,” as he called it. Right, yes. Eating. Frivolous. 

And neither had slept a particularly large amount. Steve’s body gave out on him and they found him knocked out on the couch at one point but thirty minutes later, when Dugan re-entered to cross off another warehouse, Steve was up plotting points on the map as they narrowed it down. James’ body was only slightly more used to being treated terribly and only Dmitri had caught him close his eyes for a few minutes—seven, he counted—so far. 

If not even Sarah was telling her boys to eat and sleep, then no one else was trying to get themselves stabbed or shot by doing so. 

Steve downed another cup of coffee and thanked his mother for it, pouring over the map again. Dutch Kills and Elmhurst were two of the last areas where they had a significant number of businesses to call. They had to be somewhere there. It had been a week with no luck. They just needed one lead, just one. 

The phone rang and Natalia answered since she was closest to the phone. She didn’t speak, not wanting to even let Bakuto know she existed and was involved if she could help it. The more they kept under the radar, the better. 

“Hello?” Maria said and Natalia spoke, letting the others know who it was. James and Steve watched her face carefully, saw the slight widening of her eyes and then she was furiously tapping Dmitri’s shoulder, demanding a pen and paper that he provided as she scribbled down the information she was being told. 

She hung up and turned to them, both men on the edge of their seats, hoping against hope that it was something useful. 

“One of the women called a warehouse in Hunters Point. The man answered in Japanese. She told him she had misconnected the call and hung up. At the very least we have a start,” Natalia said. 

James came over and took the piece of paper from her, scanning over it and then handing it to Steve who plotted the location based on the address in the phone book. 

“That’s more than a start, let’s go,” James said, causing Steve to look over at him. Steve was usually the one ready to jump at the first sign of anything. James was not. He was the one who calculated every step and then calculated it again. Steve worried moving so fast might be the wrong move. 

“James,” he said and James turned, his hand twitching anxiously. Why were they not going? Why had they stopped?  _ What _ could Steve possibly have to say? Clint and Tony were waiting for them.

“Let’s be sure.” 

“What’s there to be sure of? Two weeks with nothing to show for and now we get this perfect piece of information and we’re just going to sit back and wait for another goddamn miracle?” 

“No, but if we act on this and they catch wind of it and move them again then we’re right back at square one,” Steve said. 

The other three glanced between them, wondering who would win. Would they go or keep searching? It was an unusual circumstance because it was Steve talking James out of spontaneity for once. Dmitri focused on James, narrowing his eyes because his boss never acted without a plan, even a half-concocted one. 

“You and I both know that if they have to move them last minute, there will be no time for perfection. It will be messy, they will leave clues and if we aren’t right and they aren’t there then we can eliminate it and get back to work.” 

Steve and James locked gazes for a long moment. It felt like an eternity to the other three who weren’t a part of their telepathic communication and then finally Steve stood. 

“Let’s go.” 

“I’m coming,” Natalia said. 

“No, you’re not. We need someone here on phones,” James said. 

“His mother can do that,” Natalia snapped. 

“Natalia,” James said, his tone firm, “stay here.” She glared at him but finally gave in, realizing that his command was not coming from a place of underestimation but rather one of him wanting to keep her safe. She didn’t agree, but she could respect it. 

+

Tony was sitting against the cold wall, his crumbled up jacket over his knees covering his legs and the blanket wrapped tightly around his upper body. It didn’t do much to warm him but it was better than nothing. He had lost count of the days. What light was coming through the window was no indication and since he was woken often by the men holding him here, he never slept much, so measuring the days passing by how much he slept was also out of the question. 

It must have been another two weeks, if not more. It was gradually getting colder and the wind was getting harsher. Was it December already? Who knew. 

He searched the room but couldn’t find the reason why he had woken up. He sat up to look down at the tray with the empty plate and cup. No, they didn’t bring him food. The door was closed, which meant no one had meant to wake him up. And yet, Tony could hear yelling and loud noises from outside his door. When he listened closer, they sounded almost panicked. 

Could it be? Were they rushing to get out because they were in trouble? Because Steve had found them? That thought gave him energy and he decided to cling to it. But what if he didn’t make it? What if they took Tony somewhere else? What if Steve gave up on finding him because he got tired of looking? Tony couldn’t take that chance. 

He took off the necklace with the dog tags but hesitated. This was all he had of Steve. It was all he had left to focus on. What would he do without it? 

He heard a door slam and looked up. It was nearby which meant they would come for him any second now. Tony pressed a kiss to the metal and put it under the cot in a way that kept it out of plain sight. Steve would be looking. He would find it. He would know that Tony was waiting for him. 

Just as he decided to put his jacket back on, even though he felt grimy in it, his door opened and two men came in. Before Tony could react, everything went dark again, but this time because he was knocked out and not because of a hood over his head. 

~

A few rooms down, Clint was sitting on his cot, one knee pulled up to his chest, the other dangling off the end. He was staring at the door, trying to notice the changes of light beneath it. It was his only indication of anything happening outside. He pulled the blanket around his shoulders tighter, feeling a cool breeze. 

Moments later the door was thrown open and then men were stalking towards him frantically and he couldn’t understand what was going on. Was that it? Had they decided enough was enough and they were just going to kill him? Well, Clint Barton would not be going gentle into that good night. 

Clint, as worn out as he had felt in the trenches, looked up at them with a smirk and said, “Fellas, it’s good to see—”

They grabbed him by his shirt and like always, with what little strength he had, he fought back, even managing to knock one guy off of him and just as he was trying to get his balance and turn to the other guy, a third came into the room and the second one grabbed Clint’s arms. The first one delivered one efficient blow to the head and Clint was out like a light, his last thought being that he wished he had eaten the roll he had hidden. 

  
  


_ “Fuck! _ ” James roared when they got to the warehouse only to find it empty. What made matters worse was that it was only recently empty. There were cups of tea still sat on surfaces, lukewarm by now. Papers left lying on the floors and chairs overturned. They had  _ just _ missed them. A few minutes earlier and maybe they would be holding Clint and Tony again. 

He just wanted his Clint back. Bakuto could have everything else. He could have James’ money and his organization. He could have James’ home. James just wanted his Clint. 

He kicked a box on the ground with enough force to send it hurtling through the air towards Steve who was rounding the corner after having searched the other end of the warehouse. He dodged it and walked over to James, the dog tags in his hand. 

James lifted his hands to his face, sighing angrily into them. 

“They were here,” Steve said and if his voice sounded small and broken no one dared to comment on it. He opened his hand to reveal them to James. 

“You gave him your tags?” Steve nodded. “And he left them behind as proof.” Steve nodded again. “Smart boy.” 

“He is,” Steve agreed with a small smile, tucking the tags away into his jacket pocket. Tony knew Steve was coming for him. He knew Steve hadn’t given up on him and he had left Steve evidence of that. Steve  _ would _ find him. “Clint leave anything for you?” 

James reached into his pocket and pulled out the hearing aid Clint had left on the cot. “Wouldn’t have known to,” he said quietly, swallowing down past the lump he felt and looking away from Steve. “He can’t hear. He wouldn’t have the slightest idea what was going on until it was too late.” James felt lightheaded with worry and Dmitri moved closer to him, not touching him but being a comforting presence. 

“We’ll find ‘em. You know we will,” Steve said with a certainty James couldn’t quite muster up at that moment. There was no doubt in Steve’s mind that he would get Tony back one way or another. That simply wasn’t an option for him. Having Tony in his future was just a given. 

“I know,” James said quietly. It wasn’t that he didn’t think of Clint in his future as being a certainty but the worry he felt right then was overwhelming. 

Steve came over slowly, put a hand on James’ shoulder and squeezed. “Hey,” he said and James looked up at him, “this isn’t square one. We’ll find them and you know it. Get your shit together, Romanov, this isn’t who you are.” 

James glared at Steve and then finally gave in to the small smile. He stood up straighter, breathing in and out deeply. “Alright.” He cracked his neck and said, “Grab anything important and let’s go.” 

Dugan and Dmitri had collected most of the papers strewn across the floor just in case anything there would be of help to them. Seeing as there was nothing else to be found, they left. James and Steve didn’t want to stay there any longer. They had been  _ so _ close.  _ So _ very close. 

And there was also the fact that Tony and Clint’s holding cells had been on opposite ends of the warehouse. Steve and James doubted they even knew one another existed. They had gone through this alone. They might still be going through it alone. 

That thought hurt Steve’s heart. No, Tony might not have trusted Clint but at least he would have someone to talk to. Someone going through the same thing. 

James clenched his fist around the hearing aid in his hand, his eyes stinging as he stared out the window. Bakuto had so much pain to look forward to in his immediate future. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Who are you?”  
> “Clint. Who are you?”  
> “My name is Tony.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: okay y’all, I know lip-reading isn’t one hundred percent accurate and a lot of it is also guesswork in conjunction with context but for the sake of the story, Clint reads lips pretty damn well.

Clint’s head was pounding but he refused to open his eyes; he wanted to live in his dream a while longer. He had dreamt of James. Nothing fancy, just dinner. Dinner with him at a restaurant. Going out together, hand in hand, uncaring, and safe to do so. He had pressed a kiss to James’ stubbly cheek and said something to make him laugh. 

Now he inhaled sharply through his nose and the smell was all wrong. Well, it wasn’t wrong but it was different. No longer the sharp smell of concrete and disinfectant. Now the smell was cleaner, softer. He opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling. It wasn’t the hard, grey concrete anymore but a regular room. 

He was laying on something soft. It wasn’t anywhere near as soft as James’ bed but it was a step up from the hard cot he had been on the last four weeks. He wiggled and swore quietly as pain shot through his head, likely from that punch he had received. He rubbed the area between his eyebrows, closing his eyes, and slowly sitting up. 

He rubbed his hands up and down his face. He had more than a little stubble. It was a beard now and his hair could use a trim. He was also in desperate need of a shower, a toothbrush, and a change of clothes but for now he was just happy to still be alive. 

He rubbed his eyes and looked around his new space. It looked like a converted office. There was a bucket in the corner instead of the toilet he had had before, a small barred window that let in slightly more light than the last room, and then— 

When he turned towards the other side of the room he noticed for the first time the young man staring at him. Young man or, uh, boy? He wasn’t sure. Definitely under twenty-five, all smooth faced and wide-brown eyes. He was staring at Clint with a mixture of emotions that Clint’s tired brain didn’t want to process enough to tell him which ones they were. 

Who was he? Why were they in there? He had bruises too. Had Bakuto taken him as well? He looked Italian. Was he one of Fisk’s?

“Hi?” Clint said, the word coming out as a question. 

Tony, who had woken up a couple of minutes before the other man, was staring at him. He was in poor condition like himself but who knew whether that was real or not. 

While the man was still passed out, Tony quickly looked around the new room. It was definitely warmer and there was no draft anymore, but it also lacked privacy. Privacy to lick his wounds and miss Steve; to daydream about better times and say a quick prayer. 

Now there was someone with him. Maybe someone who worked for the Asians? But what would be the point of that? If they wanted information, they would have asked when they first took him. 

“Who are you?” Tony asked, despite his reluctance to acknowledge the other man’s presence. 

Clint squinted, focusing on Tony’s mouth. Oh thank god. English. Or, at least he hoped it was English. Maybe he was just seeing words that weren’t actually being formed. 

The relief was short lived though, as the suspicion began creeping back up. Was this some kind of ruse by the men who had taken him to get him to give up information? Stick a young guy in here with him who looked beaten and hungry to get Clint to take pity on him and start talking?

“Clint,” he said, speaking quietly because he a) couldn’t hear his volume and b) wasn’t sure if the men were standing outside listening to his every word. “Who are you?” 

Clint. That meant nothing to Tony. He had never seen him before. 

Tony pressed his back more against the wall behind him and hugged his knees to his chest. 

“My name is Tony,” he answered, just as quietly. Maybe Clint knew something he didn’t know and it was better to keep quiet. 

Clint watched him carefully, trying to read his lips but he was mumbling slightly. Clint formed his lips the way he had seen him do it, trying to figure out the name. “Tony?” he repeated, tentatively. “Why are you in here?” 

Tony furrowed his brows in confusion. Why did he repeat his name the way he did? 

“What’s it to you?” he asked. The past weeks he hadn’t had anyone to talk to. It felt awkward to talk now, almost like he forgot how it worked. 

Clint snorted softly, leaning his head against the wall. He was so hungry it was making him lightheaded and nauseous, and now the only person he had to talk to wasn’t very friendly. Wonderful. 

“Well,” Clint began, his eyes closed until the room stopped spinning so fast, “I was alone in my last room. They didn’t even ask me if I wanted a roommate. Thought I would ask you.” He turned to look at him, wondering when—if—they would bring food. 

Tony chewed his bottom lip nervously, not liking this situation one bit. “Believe me, if I could choose another roommate, I know who I’d choose,” Tony countered, resting his forehead on his knees. 

He missed Steve more than he thought was possible. Not being with him left him feeling hollow and empty. What if he never got to see him again? What if this was it? What if Steve didn’t find the dog tags? What if they decided to kill Tony? What if he never got to see Sarah or Benni ever again? There was also Dugan, Jones, and Pepper. James and Dmitri, too. There were so many people in his life he wanted to see again. 

Last year around this time, Tony had found peace with the idea that he would die soon; that he wouldn’t live to turn twenty. Now he wasn’t ready to let go. There was still some fight left in him and he would be damned if he gave up just like this. 

Clint watched him, read his lips. 

“Ouch,” Clint said, sarcastically. “Break my heart why don’t you?” He repositioned himself, his left side where he had recently been hit was aching. “You’re not my first choice either, pal. In fact, I’d easily trade you for an Oreo right about now.” 

Tony tried his hardest not to but couldn’t help chuckling weakly at the bad joke. “An Oreo would be great. I’d prefer a proper meal,” he said, his chin resting on the palm of his hand. 

“I can’t even remember what anything tastes like right now,” Clint added, his eyes feeling heavy like he needed to sleep. “If we survive this and you don’t turn out to be some kind of spy for these guys, we should get a burger.” It was getting harder to pay attention to Tony’s mouth and the more they talked about food, the hungrier he felt and the more lightheaded he became. 

“I’m not one of them!” Tony nearly yelled and he would have jumped to his feet if he had the strength to do so. “Don’t insult me like that after what they’ve put me through.” 

Clint sighed. He had missed what Tony said but he could guess the gist of it. There was no situation where Tony would say he was one of them. 

“Alright. I’m just gonna close my eyes until they bring food. If you decide to kill me, do me a favor and don’t wake me up first.” 

Tony was irritated to say the least. Why was Clint like this? Only someone who wasn’t really in danger would make light of their situation, right? And only an affiliate of the Asian men wouldn’t be in real danger, which meant he must be one of them! For now Tony decided to ignore him and focus on nothing but Steve. Luckily he had more than enough memories to revisit. 

Some time later—Tony wasn’t sure how much time had passed exactly—the door opened and someone put a tray down harshly and left right away. There were two glasses of water, two rolls of bread, and two potatoes. Hastily, Tony drank one of the glasses of water and grabbed a potato and a bread roll, sitting back on his mattress. He didn’t want to risk anything. 

Then again he felt rude not waking Clint. He must have heard the door open? Tony put his food down and slowly walked over to Clint, reaching out to touch him. 

“Food. Clint, they brought food.” 

Clint had knocked out deeply. Maybe it was the thought that he could hopefully take Tony if he tried anything or maybe it was just the comfort of finally having someone else in there with him but he slept for the first time since they’d taken him. 

Tony’s hand on him woke him but it took a while. He startled, moving away. 

“What? What?” he asked, panicked after being pulled from such a deep sleep. He turned his head, his eyes zeroing in on the food at the door. 

Tony jumped back, not knowing what to expect when Clint startled. He didn’t want to risk more physical pain than he was already in. Instead he crouched down, taking a second because his head was spinning from the sudden movement, and pushed the tray towards Clint. 

“Food. If you want to call it that.” 

Clint looked at the food and then up at Tony, his heart still racing. He didn’t know what was happening when Tony woke him. Food was a nice surprise but he wasn’t sure he trusted it. No matter how much he joked, he didn’t trust Tony. 

He looked up at him again. “Okay,” he said quietly, pulling the tray closer and sitting it beside his bed but not touching it. Maybe they weren’t going to poison him before but perhaps things had changed now. Maybe they were using Tony. A nice, innocent face. 

Tony watched him for another second or two before returning to his mattress and breaking the dry bread roll in smaller parts and eating them as slowly as humanly possible. The slower he ate, the longer he was going to eat and maybe that would make his stomach stop aching. 

  
  


Tonywas so hungry and tired. All he wanted was to go back home. That was all he thought about when he was woken up even harsher than in their last location. The men seemed frustrated and they used Tony as well as Clint to let off steam, leaving them both with bruises and sore spots. 

Instinctively, Tony reached for where the dog tags would be to touch them and feel closer to Steve. For a second he forgot he put them under the cot for him to find and he got scared that they took them.

“You left them,” he said to himself. “You left them to be found.” 

Clint had his head leaned back, trying to slow the flow of blood trickling out of his nose. He lifted his hand to his face, looking over at Tony who looked like he was saying something but it didn’t seem to be for Clint so he looked away. 

It was strange. The men had come in and beat Tony just as badly as they had Clint. Maybe they were just incredibly thorough about making Clint believe Tony wasn’t one of them. 

Or maybe he really wasn’t. 

He pulled out the bread roll he had tucked away under his blanket and pulled off a small piece, putting it in his mouth and chewing. 

“You okay?” he asked after a moment, unable to stop himself from asking. Tony looked so young and evil spy or not, he had taken a beating. 

Tony held his side where he could still feel the impact of the kick. Why had he been able to take worse beatings over the years but this one nearly made him cry? Maybe it was because Clint was asking. No, he wasn’t okay. He was somewhere not even close to Steve, he was tired, hungry, and desperate for warmth and security. Steve spoiled him and he knew that but it didn’t have to be a bad thing. It was nice to not have to suffer. 

“It’ll heal. It always did and always will,” he said and looked up. “What about you?” 

“Had worse,” he said with a shrug that made him wince, feeling relieved that Tony was alright even though he didn’t know why. “So if you aren’t one of them, why are you here? What do they gain by keeping you here?” 

“That is the big question, isn’t it?” He rested a hand on his stomach when it growled out of emptiness. “Probably because I’m seeing a very influential person. They probably want to get to them.” He shrugged and took a bite out of his potato. “What about you?” 

Clint’s eyes narrowed. “Listen, I’m deaf and reading your lips. Did I misread or did you say you’re seeing a very influential person?”

Tony looked up in surprise, not sure if he heard correctly. “Oh, sorry,” he apologized automatically. “No, that’s correct.” It felt good to call Steve a very influential person. He was that but not in the way people thought. 

Clint was taking a leap here and he knew he risked exposing him if it wasn’t the case but he had to know. And it would make sense, right? Of course they would take them both. James had said Steve was at risk. 

“A very influential Irish man?” 

Tony sat up straight, regretting what he had said. Did he give away precious information to the last person he should have trusted? 

“What’s it to you? What makes you think I-I’d be with a man?” he asked, trying to press more into the wall, to disappear from the danger right in front of him. 

“Nothing wrong with it,” Clint said, seeing the way he was retreating back. He didn’t know how to say it without someone on the other side of the door possibly hearing them. He wanted to say he knew Steve. That they were… acquaintances. Not friends, not yet. 

Instead he said, “Jimmy’s a good cook, huh?” Hoping against hope that Tony would get what he was trying to say and understand about whom he was saying it. 

“Jimmy?” Tony repeated, absolutely confused. Where did that come from? What was that supposed to mean? He didn’t know a Jimmy. He knew a James. Did he mean him? “And the magic coffee maker does the rest?” he tried, hesitating and still careful. As if he had anything that could protect him. 

Clint chuckled. “I hate that goddamn thing. It looks like it should go to space, not make espresso. Wonder how Dmitri and Dugan are,” he said, figuring that wouldn’t cost them anything if they were overheard. He doubted whoever had them knew Dmitri and Dugan’s names. 

Tony let out a heavy sigh, feeling some of the burden fall from his shoulders. “They are probably very busy,” he said, his voice shaking. 

Clint looked over at him. “Probably,” he agreed, nodding his head. 

Tony had to swallow several times to get rid of the lump in his throat. “I’ve heard of you. Not much.” He realized that Clint didn’t need to actually hear words. It was enough for him to read Tony’s lips. And so he formed silent words. “Are you okay?” 

“I’ve heard about you too. Not enough to recognize you apparently.” He let out a soft laugh that hurt his ribs, giving Tony a thumbs up. “Dandy. You?” 

Tony was wondering where or when the topic of himself had ever come up for Clint to know but then again it was the same with Steve mentioning James’ fella. He nodded in response, not trusting his voice or his breathing. He missed everyone and he missed being in a warm, loving home. 

In an attempt to hide his watery eyes, he rested his head on his knees again and tried to take calming breaths. Then he remembered that Clint couldn’t hear, so he allowed himself to take those shaky breaths that seemed to be stuck inside of him and needed to be released. 

Clint watched Tony, saw the way his chest rose and fell, and looked away, realizing that this was a private moment. He put away the rest of his roll for later and laid down, closing his eyes again. 

  
  
  


Clint’s nightmares woke him. It was dark in the room but he focused his efforts on not freaking himself out. Instinctively he reached for his hearing aids in the place where he was used to them being beside the bed, his pulse speeding up when his hand only found cold, hard ground.

He sat up, running his hands through his hair and taking deep breaths, trying to keep them quiet so he wouldn’t wake Tony if he was asleep. 

His hands were shaking and he covered his face with them, trying to breathe through his nose. The last time he had woken up from a nightmare like this, James had been there with him. He had pulled Clint into his arms and pressed kisses to his hair until he relaxed. He had taken him downstairs and made him a warm glass of milk and given him one of Sarah’s muffins. 

The time before that it had been Natalia and truth be told, he hadn’t gone through one alone since coming home from the war. He felt a tremor travel up his spine and he took in another deep breath. He picked up the glass of water that was still half-full and downed some of it, curling up tighter, and leaning against the wall as his pulse slowed and he was beginning to catch his breath, still shaking a little. 

He knew there was no going to sleep now so he glanced over in Tony's direction although conversation was out of the question as it was too dark. He squinted, trying to make out his shape and see if he was awake but he couldn’t so he gave up. 

The light sleeper that Tony was, he woke as soon as he heard movement. He expected the door to open and for the men to come back and beat them some more. When that didn’t happen, he focused on the rustling and noises coming from the other end of the room where Clint was. 

Since the other man couldn’t hear him and there was no light, which meant he couldn’t read his lips either, Tony got up and slowly walked to the other mattress and found Clint’s arm. Despite him flinching and pulling his arm back, Tony stayed calm. He waited a few seconds and reached out his hand to touch Clint’s shoulder. By now he must have realized that it was Tony and not someone else. 

While Tony waited for some sign from Clint that he was okay or that he wanted Tony gone, he thought about how truly terrible this situation must be if you couldn’t hear anything. 

Tony sat down next to him so that their arms were touching. Then he rested his head on Clint’s shoulder, hoping that the additional warmth would help him. 

There was still his paranoia that Clint wasn’t who he said he was but how else would he know about the coffee machine, James’ cooking, and Dugan and Dmitri? 

“It’s okay,” Tony hummed. “They’re going to find us.” He was well aware that Clint couldn’t hear him but maybe he would be able to feel that Tony was saying something and he would realize that those words were meant to comfort him at least a little. 

Clint tensed at first and then relaxed into the non-hostile touch, the warmth, and the soothing presence of someone else. 

He turned to look at Tony in the darkness but all he could see was the vague silhouette of him. He exhaled shakily, trying to keep his voice low. The last thing he wanted was for the men to come in and hit him while he was already down. 

“Thanks,” he said, finally feeling some of the tension fading from his body, leaving him more exhausted than when he’d gone to sleep. “Just a nightmare.” He knew he wouldn’t be able to hear what Tony said in reply but still he wanted to talk. 

Tony stayed close to Clint. Feeling someone else’s warmth was therapeutic even though he wasn’t the one he really wanted. 

“It’ll soon be light. Then we can talk some more,” Tony mumbled. He wished there was something he could do for Clint or at least talk to him properly. If only it was time for their food too, even if it was only a bread roll and a potato. 

Just like Tony said, it was slowly getting brighter outside until the low winter sun had risen and illuminated the room with its light. 

“Feeling better?” he asked, his head turned so Clint could see. 

Clint watched him speak and nodded. “Yeah, thanks again.” He reached under the blanket and pulled out the bread roll. “Gross, I know, but want some?” 

Something in him, despite having no younger siblings of his own, had come alive in Tony’s presence. If Tony wasn’t actually who he said he was, if it was all just a very well-played act, Clint would feel like an idiot for wasting his food. If not, he would feel like a monster for not at least trying to share. 

Tony felt so much better when he was offered food, it made him smile for the first time in weeks.

“You should eat it yourself. You didn’t sleep.” 

Tony looked at the door, hoping that they would bring more food any minute now. Or at least water. He was parched. 

“I think Steve and James were close to finding us. That’s why we moved,” Tony whispered, being extra careful to still form his words clearly.

Clint watched his mouth carefully. He noticed Tony was over-enunciating for his benefit and appreciated the effort. His eyes widened at that information. That hadn’t even occurred to him and he didn’t know why. Maybe because he couldn’t hear if the men were frantic or not. He just knew they were angry and then they had moved. 

“I hope so,” Clint said, taking a piece of the bread and eating it slowly. Any other time he would have insisted on sharing but not when he felt how he did now. “I don’t think this is how they planned on us meeting.” There was a small smile on Clint’s lips. It was equal parts happy and sad. 

Tony smiled weakly, his arms wrapped around his legs again. “I don’t think they planned for us to get taken away either.” 

“No, probably not.” He sighed, looking around their small room. “At least this is better than being alone. For me, anyway.” 

“I’m so used to being alone but I prefer company,” Tony said and took a shaky breath.

Clint’s eyes slid to Tony and he just couldn’t shake the suspicion that he still felt. He tried to remember anything he knew about Tony from James. 

“Your brother. What’s his name again?” 

The mention of his brother made Tony’s heart ache even more. James didn’t leave out anything, did he? 

“Beniamino Peter, but I only ever call him Benni. He’s so sweet and loving.” 

Clint nodded. That was the name he remembered and it made him feel better about the guy sitting beside him. 

“He must be. James really likes him. He wanted me to know exactly who I would be meeting, we didn’t just sit around discussing you, don’t worry,” he clarified when he saw Tony’s face. “I’d already met Steve and Sarah. That only left you and Benni.” 

“You met Sarah?” he asked, surprised. “Ah, that’s nice. She’s the best. And Steve…” He took a deep breath, hoping that would help with the pain he felt. “We were ordering meat and vegetables the day they took me. I wanted to make a second dessert because Sarah said we would need a lot of food for all the guests.” He pursed his lips. Why was he even talking about that? 

Clint nodded slowly. Thinking about the day he was taken made him angry. Angry with himself for being stupid and putting James through all of this because he didn’t think he needed the protection. 

He looked away, letting the bitterness fade before he responded. “Yeah,” he answered, smiling as he remembered meeting Sarah. “She just came over one day while I was at home. She’s got a key, apparently. Steve and I don’t exactly see eye to eye. Yet.” He would keep adding the ‘yet’ because deep down he did want to be Steve’s friend. But they weren’t there. Yet. 

Tony couldn’t help but laugh softly. Why wasn’t he surprised that Clint and Steve didn’t get along? 

“Steve is the best. He cares a lot and doesn’t always think before he acts but he always means well,” he whispered. If the men who were holding him heard him talk about Steve they probably wouldn’t like it. “If we ever get out of here, you should give him another chance.”

“I'm sure he does,” Clint said. It didn’t mean he agreed with his approach. “Maybe you can put in a good word for me when we get out of here and finally have that dinner. Hey, are you over twenty-one?” 

“He told me that he ambushed you. Was that how you met him the first time?” If it was, he could see why it was such a disaster. “Not yet. I... turn twenty next May. Why?”

Clint wondered how that had come up in conversation but he didn’t ask about it. “No, that was the second time. The first time, I came home and he was there with James.” Clint paused to yawn and gather his thoughts. He knew Tony was young but not that young. Wow. “I own a bar. Was gonna invite you for drinks after all of this.” 

“Ah, I see,” he answered. “I don’t drink but thank you for the invitation.” He looked back up, curious as to how James and Clint met but he didn’t want to ask because it felt rude. “Thanks for thinking I was of drinking age though. Usually people think I’m a lot younger than I am.” 

“Eh, I’ll make an exception and I’ll make you something sweet and non-alcoholic,” Clint told him. “Don’t like the taste or just very good about obeying the law?” He found himself laughing as he asked his question. If he were good about obeying the law, he would probably not be with Steve. 

“Oh, I like sweet. Even better would be something with coffee in it. Really strong coffee and some of Sarah’s grilled cheese sandwiches.” Tony hummed and rubbed his stomach, desperate for something to eat that had actual flavor.

“Never made a coffee drink. Always up for a challenge,” Clint told him, his stomach growling at the mere mention of food. He ate another piece of his stale bread roll and let out another sigh, dragging a hand down his face. 

“Really? I like routine. Maybe something new every now and then but not too much.” Tony paused. “My father was a drinker. Never liked what it did to him, the smell or the taste. Sherry is the only thing I’ll sip on.” 

“Mine too. Abusive drunk,” Clint admitted, figuring Tony was implying the same. “I do like alcohol, though, but I’m with you. Brandy’s my go to, smooth and sweet.” 

Tony got up to stretch his legs, hoping that would distract him from his hunger. He couldn’t find it in him to talk about Howard more than he already had. If he wanted to hurt himself more, he’d simply continue talking about how much he missed everyone. 

There were footsteps in the hallway and then a key was turned in the lock, before the door swung open. Tony quickly sat down on his mattress and closed his eyes. 

“Still got enough to eat? Guess you won’t need this then!” the man laughed. 

Tony believed him and jumped up to ask him for food. Suddenly another man appeared out of nowhere and hit Tony, telling him to shut up and not to move another muscle. 

Tony held his pounding cheek, tasting blood again, and keeping his eyes shut. Why was this so difficult to endure? 

Clint got to his feet, a little shaky, but stormed forward, his fist sailing through the air and connecting loudly with the jaw of the man who had hit Tony. There was a crack and the guy stumbled backwards and the second one dropped the food in their room and grabbed the guy Clint had hit. 

The one carrying the food said something, though Clint wasn’t sure what, and started walking towards him. He swung aiming for Clint’s stomach but Clint moved. The fist just barely caught his side, which hurt like hell, and Clint shoved him. Finally, the man managed to land a solid punch to Clint’s ribs and Clint gasped as the pain spread. His ribs must have been hurt worse than he initially thought. 

Clint fell back onto the mattress and the men left, the food—thankfully—was still there but it was half on the tray and half on the floor. 

Clint took a moment and then walked over to Tony, bending down in front of him. “You okay?” 

Tony closed his eyes and tried to hide away from the noise of fighting. All of that right after talking about his father was too much. 

“I can’t do this anymore,” he whispered and shook his head. “I want to go home.” 

Clint gently put a hand on Tony’s knee. “Yeah, me too. They’ll find us again and knowing how much they love us, it won’t take too long. Until then, we’re gonna get through this. What would you rather: me leave you alone or talk?” Clint almost laughed. It was very rare that anyone wanted him to keep talking. 

Tony pressed his lips together and forced himself to take deep breaths through his nose. “Could you… tell me a story or something? Anything, really.” 

Clint nodded and grabbed the food first, pulling it over in front of them and then settling in beside Tony, their legs touching. He picked up one of the potatoes and took a bite, chewing slowly as he chose a story to share. 

“My best friend is Mee—uh, Dmitri’s cousin. I’ve known Dmitri for years and he thought James needed friends and so he introduced us.” He smiled, remembering that night and how closed off James had been and how very on brand Clint Barton he had been. “James did not like me at first.” 

Tony looked up when he heard him chewing. Maybe eating would help him feel better too? But what if it didn’t? He decided against eating and listened instead. “James doesn’t like anyone when he first meets them,” he said and stared into the middle space between his and Clint’s mattress. 

“True. He actually told me once that he’s not a people person. As if that’s not the second thing I noticed about him after his eyes,” Clint said instead of saying his thighs because he wanted to say his thighs. “And I had no clue who he was. I never knew what Dmitri did for work,” he laughed. “So I walked up to James and clapped him on the back and said ‘how ya doing?’ Not my best moment.” 

“Steve’s eyes were also the second thing I noticed about him.” It was nice to think about his eyes. “Neither James nor Steve are always what their job is. They’re fun and easy to be around when they’re not being dramatic or fighting.” 

It was interesting talking to Tony. His reactions to things weren’t what Clint expected. The way he spoke reminded him that Tony was only nineteen. 

“True but when I met him, he was… different. Eventually, I used my special brand of charm and dumbassery to win him over.” He let his head drop for a moment, his chest aching with how much he missed him. He lifted his head again to see Tony’s reply. He really missed his hearing aids too. 

Tony listened, his head turned to Clint and he nodded. “How long has it been since you two started out?”

“Met him in February, he tried to stab me and I kissed him in June,” he said, casually as if everyone had their first kiss that way. 

Tony sat up straight, his brows furrowed in confusion. “He what now?” 

Clint chuckled. “It’s my fault. I snuck up on him and then actually touched him when he was stressed. He dropped the knife before I kissed him.” 

“That’s… a very interesting way to have your first kiss,” he chuckled and made himself comfortable again. “I’m surprised he didn’t accidentally stab you.”

“Nothing I do is normal, apparently. Even when I’m trying but him and those knives… he’s very controlled,” he said, quickly changing the subject because being held captive, starving, and sleep deprived was not the time to be having steamy thoughts about James. “You’ve known him a while: am I what you were expecting his fella to be like?” 

Tony raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly. Now things were really getting interesting. “I’ve known him a minute longer than you. I don’t know. I’ve never seen Steve with someone like me and he proved me wrong. Ask me something easier.” 

Clint laughed. “Easier? Alright, in what normal way did you have your first kiss with yours?” 

Tony turned his head away again. Only because Clint needed to read his lips did he turn it back. “After dinner we talked. Then he asked me if I danced and then we did. It’s strange… because I didn’t feel weird at all. I left the room but he came after me, asked me what it would take for me to leave him. When I told him there wasn’t anything, he kissed me.” 

“Aw he kissed you first,” Clint said quietly, smiling. Hearing about Steve from James’ point of view helped him prepare himself for what he would be like. Hearing him from Tony’s made him like him a bit more. 

“He did,” he said with a smile. If Steve hadn’t kissed him they would still be pining after each other, that much was clear. 

“You always known?” 

“No, not really. I… I didn’t—” He needed to take a break and collect his thoughts before he continued. “I was too busy to ever think about things like that. Once that was out of the way, it became clear.” 

Clint nodded, eating the last bite of the potato. Usually he would’ve gone more slowly but he just wanted to feel like his stomach wasn’t empty. “I always knew.” He turned the ring on his finger as he spoke. “Never liked girls. Be glad he’s your first. Trying to date is… it’s rough.” 

“I can’t even begin to imagine. Steve has spoiled me in so many ways. I got carried away and too used to being safe because of him.” He reached up to wrap his hand around the dog tags only to find nothing there again. Out of frustration and hunger he couldn’t think of anything else to ask or say. His face felt sore and he just knew he had a black eye now. 

Clint hummed, nothing to add to that. James hadn’t spoiled him, he was just a prideful dumbass sometimes who should learn to be taken care of. 

After a while of Tony saying nothing, Clint looked away and then after a few more minutes he got up and went back to his mattress, taking his bread roll and water with him. If Tony was done talking, so was Clint. He was tired, his older sibling instincts had run out and he just wanted James. 

+

“This one,” James said, tapping the point of his knife to a neighborhood they had circled. 

“Why that one?” Steve asked, picking up one of the documents from Gao. 

“It’s the closest.” James’ tone implied that the reasoning was obvious and Steve looked up at him. 

“Which is exactly why I say this one. It’s close but not that close. We have no idea how long they drove for.”

“You give Bakuto more credit than I do.” 

“He’s smart.” 

“Not that smart. I mean he stole from us. Us,” James repeated emphatically. He walked around to the other side of the desk, sheathing his knife and planting both hands firmly on top of the desk. “We can’t separate and we only have one shot.” 

“Agreed.” 

“Is there no other way to narrow it down?” Natalia asked, coming over with a mug of tea. She handed James a bread roll. It was still warm, freshly baked by Sarah. “Eat,” she told him firmly in Russian and he hesitated but then took it and bit it, chewing stubbornly. She didn’t bother with Steve because Sarah had finally forced him to have a meal but James had managed to excuse himself, reasoning that he had a lead to follow up on. 

“He called us,” Dmitri said, sitting on the couch, tapping a pencil to his lips. He had his own document in front of him, another list of Bakuto’s properties in Queens. 

“It took us forty minutes to get back here,” Dugan said since he had been driving, building on Dmitri’s thought. “And he called about twenty minutes later. That’s at least an hour.” 

“The tea in that warehouse was lukewarm. Either they don’t know how to make tea properly or they hadn’t been gone all that long,” Dmitri said. 

“Let’s say ten minutes,” Steve said. “We were there for about twenty. That gives us an hour and a half.” 

“So where could they have gone in an hour and half and where could they not have made it to?” Natalia asked, leaning over the desk to look at the map. 

“Assuming they weren’t trying to draw attention from the police,” James said, taking the red marker from Steve and plotting points on the map branching out from the warehouse in Hunters Point, “and were obeying the speed limit, an hour and a half would get them somewhere around here…” He trailed off, plotting more points and connecting them all with a circle. 

Steve leaned forward to look at the map and then up at James. “How accurate is this?” 

“Well, your math whiz isn’t here to check my calculations but I wouldn’t say it’s complete shit,” James said and Steve gave him an unimpressed look. “Look, we have four potential buildings within this area and one just on the outskirts. These others would take at least another thirty minutes to reach.” 

Dmitri and Dugan came over to look as well, all of them standing around the desk studying the map. 

“So how do we narrow that down?” Natalia asked. 

“We need a way to surveil the area without being noticed,” Steve said. 

Dmitri snapped his fingers excitedly as an idea came to him, all heads turning in his direction. “Your cars are dead giveaways. Just like Bakuto’s was,” he said and James made a circular motion with his hand, indicating that Dmitri should expand on his thought. “So we need something unremarkable.” 

“Yes,” James said, his eyebrows pulled together in confusion because wasn’t that obvious? 

“How about an ambulance?” Dmitri said, a smug grin pulling at the corners of his lips. 

“I know a guy who owns a hospital,” Steve said, smiling now too. “Think he has an ambulance to spare?” 

+

The next few times the men came into Clint and Tony’s room they didn’t bother them for once. They dropped off the food, made a few scathing remarks, but otherwise did not harm them. It was baffling to say the least and Clint wondered if something bigger was about to happen, turning to look at Tony who seemed just as confused by the strange behavior. 

The other odd occurrence was the amount of food. It was the same semi-stale bread roll and potato but there was a little meat on the plate. Nothing fancy, just some heated up spam, but it was more than they had been getting the last few weeks. Although it alerted Clint to the fact that whoever had taken them was not getting what he wanted so he needed to keep Clint and Tony around a while longer. Clint was both relieved and saddened by that fact.

Although the idea of Steve and James not giving in did make him smile a little. He didn’t want them to. Yes, he wanted to go home and he wanted to be held by James again but he did not want James to give up anything to whatever asshole had taken them. 

It was two days later that they both had a bit more energy from the increase in food and were chatting quietly with one another. It had been a quiet day. One silent food delivery and that was it. They didn’t let their guard down but they did find themselves having more desire to talk. 

“Do you like dogs?” Clint asked, nibbling on his bread roll, saving the spam for last. 

Tony, who usually ate the spam first because he didn’t like the taste, washed it down with a gulp of water and a bite from his bread roll and looked up. “I was bitten once by a stray. I’ve been scared ever since. I prefer cats. You?” he asked and dipped some of his bread in the water to soften it. They were not only getting some meat, but also more water now. 

“I love ‘em. Dmitri and I convinced James and now we have a puppy. His name is Lucky. He’s a sweetheart, I promise,” Clint said, pinching off a piece of the spam and popping it into his mouth. 

“A puppy? James? A lot has happened, apparently,” he said with a small chuckle and finished his bread roll. “If you promise he’s nice, I’ll give it a shot.” 

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “He had a strict ‘no Lucky on the furniture’ rule and now he gets annoyed if Lucky doesn’t sit beside him when he’s on the couch.” He smiled even though it hurt to think about James and Lucky and Dmitri. He wondered how Natalia was doing. And Maria. Phil. So many people he wanted to see. 

Tony chuckled weakly. He was done eating for now and saved the rest for later. His craving for vegetables or a nice chicken broth soup was intense. Something warm and delicious. Dinner with the family, then after dinner time with Steve. “So, you live with James?” 

“Yeah, he asked me to move in about two months ago. Three months? I think two,” he said, trying to remember because it honestly felt like he’d been in that house for a very long time. Living with Natalia in their crappy apartment with their evil neighbors seemed like a lifetime ago. 

“I’m glad James isn’t alone in that big house of his anymore. I always wondered if he got lonely,” Tony said and rested his chin on top of his knees. “Tell me about your bar.” 

“Me too,” Clint said with a soft smile. “It’s called Hawkeye after my nickname during the war. It’s in Midtown. It’s a cool place. Very… accepting, if you know what I mean.” 

Tony nodded. He was more of a listener than someone who asked questions or shared without being asked. Usually he spoke to Benni, who had a lot of stories to tell about the things he experienced every day. Sarah and he enjoyed companionable silence. Every now and then she would tell a story or sing a song. It was very peaceful. With Steve it was always different. Sometimes they read to each other from their books, sometimes Steve sketched while Tony watched him. Sometimes they talked about a movie, a song, or things they wanted to do. 

He wanted to talk to Clint, but he wasn’t quite sure where to start. Steve didn’t talk about the war and Tony didn’t want to know. The nights when he had nightmares about the things he had experienced were more than enough for him. Tony didn’t know James all that well either, so there wasn’t a lot for him to say there. 

Tony gave Clint a warm smile, one that was supposed to let him know that he was listening and that he could talk about whatever he wanted to. 

Clint knew that smile Tony gave him. He knew it from seeing it on James’ face, especially in the beginning when he wanted to be polite and let Clint ramble on but didn’t seem to know what or how to add something himself. Clint was used to being the person who talked to fill silence. 

It occurred to him then that he had a lot of quiet people in his life and he wondered if that was why he usually slipped into an easy flow of words and stories. James, Natalia, Dmitri—unless you got him talking about something he really loved—and even Phil was a man of few words. 

But Clint really wanted to talk. As accustomed to it as he was, this little bit of conversation they had had over the last few days had kept him from teetering over the edge of insanity in the silence that he found himself in. He wasn’t born deaf, so the silence was suffocating him. 

“When I meet your brother,” Clint began, “how do I win him over? I’m generally good with kids—we have common interests—but I’m a little rusty.” 

Benni was an easy topic for Tony. It was such a pleasure to talk about him. 

“He’s very curious and wants to know everything. If there’s something you know that he doesn’t, he’ll like you. He’s very shy and timid at first. He likes to draw, read. Sarah is teaching him Irish, I’m teaching him Italian. He likes to bake with Steve and he actually likes to do his homework.” Tony knew that Benni was safe and sound. That knowledge eased his mind. Tony didn’t know what he would do if he had to worry about Benni on top of everything else. 

“Hm, okay good to know. Coloring is one of my top talents but maybe I can teach him sign language,” Clint hummed, thinking. “How old is he?” 

“He turned ten this September. He’s a big boy now with two numbers in his age. And next year he won’t even have enough fingers to show his age anymore, which he can’t wait for.” He chuckled as he repeated the things Benni had told him. “One day he wants to be a zookeeper, the next day he wants to be a baker, and the day after that he wants to be an author.” 

Clint laughed softly. “Sounds like me,” he said, dragging a hand down his face. He grabbed the rest of the spam and started eating it slowly. “You seem like a good big brother. It’s nice to see.” 

With a nod and a smile from Tony they settled into silence and Clint decided to just go with it, inhaling deeply. 

He looked down at his hands, turning the wedding band he still wore. Even if it wasn’t symbolic of a marriage union in the traditional sense for him, it still meant something to both of them and he knew that Natalia had probably pushed herself right in with James and Steve. That thought made him smile and comforted him. There were too many brilliant, dangerous people looking for them for Clint to let himself worry. 

However, Clint wasn’t really the sitting around type. Not when he was forced into a situation. He could most definitely spend a few days in bed with James doing nothing but he had never been the lay down and roll over type. He wasn’t sure about Tony but he decided to test the waters anyway with an idea he had been thinking about since the last time they had brought the food. 

“How do you feel about…” he trailed off, using his hands to indicate opening the door and walking out, hoping Tony would get it because he wasn’t sure if someone was listening. 

Tony looked up, focusing back on the current reality he was trying to escape. He mimicked Clint’s gesture. “Oh, you mean—“ He stopped himself and shook his head. He pointed to his heart and Clint’s and mimed someone coming in. They should wait for James and Steve. 

Clint sat back. He had been afraid of that response. He could understand being hesitant but it still frustrated him, though he did his best not to show it. 

“I,” he began, pointing to his heart to mean ‘love’, “him and I know they’ll find us but don’t you think we should at least try?” 

“What if that makes everything worse for them and for us?” he whispered and shook his head. “If we get caught, they might kill us. Even if we escape, where would we go? It’s freezing outside and we have no clothes nor money.” He kept on whispering since it made no difference to Clint. 

Clint watched him a moment longer but didn’t say anything. “Alright,” he said but he wasn’t about to give up on the idea. He was sure they were looking for them, he knew they would find them, but he did not like being a damsel in distress. He wondered if having an actual plan would make a difference. 

  
  


The next morning Tony and Clint ate their food in silence like they usually did. Clint ate silently to focus on not eating too fast and Tony because he didn’t want Clint reading his lips while he had a mouthful of food. Besides, he had been raised better than to talk with a mouthful and Sarah certainly reinforced that rule at the table nowadays as well. 

It was a companionable silence, though. It still seemed too intense for Clint but Tony’s presence made it slightly more palatable. When he had been alone, the silence was too much. 

They had chatted a little more before sleeping last night but Clint hadn’t brought up the topic of escaping again, figuring that Tony would need more time to ease him into the idea. 

Clint opened his mouth to speak now that he had finished his spam but never got the chance, the doors bursting open as two big guys came into the room. With the extra strength he had from the food, he could move a little faster and found himself getting up to stand in front of Tony on pure instinct. 

The first man smiled and said something and then both of them were grabbing Clint. He resisted at first, planting his feet firmly and tugging back but two against one was really not working in his favor. 

“Guys,” Clint said, his eyes focused on the space outside their room. He took in his surroundings while running his mouth to distract them from what he was doing. “Let’s talk this out like adults. Ow, that felt personal,” he said when one of them kicked the back of his knee to pull him out more easily. “Is this because I killed your friend?” 

The door behind him shut, leaving Tony alone. At least no one had stayed in there with him. That meant that no matter what was happening to Clint, Tony was alright for now. 

Clint looked around as much as he could, still struggling and spouting nonsense, not able to hear the men telling him to shut up. He was pulled into another room. It was larger than his and Tony’s with wide windows and Clint could see the world outside. They were in some kind of office space. It seemed abandoned and Clint could still see water. The East river, he assumed. 

He was pushed down into a chair at a desk and he glanced around when the men who had brought him in stepped away. Clint didn’t move, sensing something was up and then his suspicions were confirmed and a very well-dressed man entered the room, looking over at Clint with what he could only describe as disgust. 

He spoke and Clint frowned, trying to read his lips. He gestured to one of his men who picked up the phone on the desk and dialed a number, waiting for it to connect. The man took the phone and spoke into it but he faced away from Clint so he missed whatever was said. 

The phone was pressed to Clint’s ear forcefully and he winced, the cold, hard plastic slamming against his head. Clint looked up at the man and then said, “Hello?” He assumed it was James on the other end but how the hell was he supposed to hear? Did they really not know? 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James receives a phone call. Clint and Tony make a plan. Steve and James have a little conversation with one of Bakuto's men.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: brief instance of captive torture but the scene cuts before anything actually happens

_ “Here," _ Natalia said, forcing a piece of fruit into James’ hand.  _ “Eat it." _

He stared down at it like he had the bread roll she pressed into his hand a few days earlier. Again, he narrowed his eyes at her and then watched as she went over to Steve and held out her hand, offering him another freshly washed piece of fruit on a napkin. 

She wasn’t as rough with Steve, James had noticed. At first, he assumed it was because she didn’t know him so she was being polite. Then he remembered who Natalia was and quickly dismissed that. Next he thought that maybe her roughness with James was because she was angry with him. Maybe she blamed him for Clint’s predicament. 

She came back over to where he was standing, looking up at one of the maps they had hung on the wall. So far they had managed to cross off two locations and still had three more to go. 

She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned lightly against James’ side. He was surprised, figuring that her roughness with him must not have been anything negative. Maybe she was nice to Steve because she  _ didn’t _ like him. It was a tactic that could only really work for Natalia. 

James lifted the piece of fruit to his mouth and took a bite, chewing slowly as he looked at the map. Steve came over and stood on his other side, also eating his snack. 

He was warming up to Natalia although he had absolutely no idea whether or not she even liked him. The more Steve got to know her and hear how James spoke about Clint, the more curious he was. Hopefully, he would get the chance to redeem himself after all of this and they could start fresh. He wondered if Tony would like Clint. 

Steve scratched at his slightly stubbly chin. “What’re you thinking?”

“I’m thinking,” James began, moving forward to point out what he meant, “that these two are incredibly close to one another and that perhaps we can kill two birds with one stone.” 

“We also run the risk of any of his men seeing that that ambulance isn’t being used for its intended purpose,” Steve reasoned. 

When Steve was angry, just riled up from a show of disrespect or someone outright stealing from him, reason went out the window and he was all action and no talk. When it came to those he loved being in danger, however, suddenly he learned the value of careful planning and after feeling the devastation of finding the first location only to miss Tony by minutes? Well, it was safe to say he wasn’t taking any chances on that happening again. 

“True,” James said, still mystified by the mythical creature that was Reasonable Rogers. 

“One at a time. Like the others,” Steve stated. 

“There’s still risk involved in that. No matter what, if we decide to inspect either of these buildings next, we run the risk of being outed again,” James countered. 

Steve sighed heavily, both of his hands holding onto his belt buckle as he thought. “What’s not—”

The jarring sound of James’ phone ringing cut Steve’s sentence short and both of their heads snapped around to look at it. Was it Maria? Had someone accidentally called another of Bakuto’s buildings? They had stopped that tactic after the first success because they didn’t want him catching on to what they had been doing. Was Bakuto ready to make more demands of which Steve and James had zero intent of fulfilling? Most likely. 

Dmitri was the one who answered the phone, Steve and James both visibly tensing as the color drained from Dmitri’s face and he held out the phone. 

“For you,” he said, looking at James. 

James swallowed, his heart racing because what horrors was he about to hear? He took the phone from Dmitri and held it to his ear. 

“Hello?” 

James felt a wave of mixed emotions so strong and confusing he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to cry or scream or both. His knees buckled and he supported himself with one hand on the desk in front of him. 

_ Clint. _

That was Clint’s voice. 

He was okay. He was alive. And James could hear him. 

“Clint,” James breathed, the word almost a gasp. He was interrupted midway through by Clint’s repeated “Hello?” 

James remembered Clint couldn’t hear him. Did Bakuto not know? Or was this all just some extraordinarily cruel form of torture for them both—James could hear Clint but Clint couldn’t hear him and, if James knew anything about Bakuto, he probably hadn’t even told Clint who was on the other end of the call. 

“What is this, Bakuto?” James said but he got no reply. “Hello?” he said, honestly just desperate to hear Clint again. He put the phone on speaker and looked up at Steve. 

Steve watched, his expression pained. His mind kept going to Tony, wondering where he was in all of this and if he was alright. He wondered if he would get a phone call next but for now he watched how hurt James looked and sounded. 

“Clint?” James repeated, his hands on the desk and head down as he fought to carefully contain everything he felt. At least if Tony was next he would get to hear Steve’s voice. 

“Speak,” Bakuto ordered. 

There was more silence and then, “I’m deaf, you stupid fuck. What do you want—” 

There was a loud slap on the other end of the line and James swore under his breath in Russian, gritting his teeth and once again imagining all the ways he would find to hurt Bakuto once they had them back. There was no way in hell he would let him off with a quick death. 

There was a shuffling sound and then Bakuto’s voice came through clearly on the phone. His pain and anger aside, James couldn’t help the pride he felt at Clint’s snarky little remark. Just the fact that he still had that fight in him. He hadn’t lost his brazen dumbassery, they hadn’t broken his Clint. 

“Not only do you choose to be a disgrace to humanity but you choose to do so with an invalid? Just sad, Romanov,” Bakuto spat. 

Steve put a hand on James’ shoulder, sensing that he had had just about enough from Bakuto. 

“The clock is ticking, Romanov. Your little pet won’t sound as well the next time I call.” 

_ “Riv—,"  _ Clint began to call out loudly in Russian only to be slapped before he could get out the full word. 

“Get that trash out of my sight,” Bakuto snapped, continuing his conversation with James as Clint was dragged out. 

  
  


Clint went silently this time around. They tossed him onto the floor and he caught himself just in time to save himself from a painful face plant onto the concrete. 

He felt the wind created by the slam of the door behind him and he waited, slowly going back to his mattress. He turned to Tony, his face still stinging from that last slap. 

“I’m okay,” Clint said, giving Tony his usual thumbs up and cheeky grin despite how much the left side of his face ached. He would wait to see what would happen first before he spoke, before he shared with Tony everything he had just learned but in the meantime he repeated fifty-left-twenty-left-down-thirty so he wouldn’t forget. 

Tony, who was left all alone suddenly, was honestly anxious about Clint getting dragged out of the room like that. He spent even more anxious minutes hoping that he would be alright. Not only because he was in this with him and it was bearable now that they were together, but because he didn’t want James to suffer. 

He also thought about how difficult it would be to survive this situation all by himself again, should anything happen to Clint. It was a selfish reason, which made him feel bad, but now that he knew that it was easier with someone there to talk to he didn’t want to go back to being alone. 

Even though they all but threw him back into the room, Tony was glad to see him again. 

“I’m glad you’re back,” he sighed and helped Clint sit up. “For a minute I thought I’d never see you again. And would you believe that all I could think about was how I’ll never get to see you clean-shaven and in decent clothes?” 

Clint laughed. So Tony did have a sense of humor. That was nice to find out. 

“Well, I have bad news for you. My looks only go downhill from here.” He gently inspected his red, stinging cheek with his fingers. Tony handed him his water and he drank, still waiting to see if they would come drag Tony out next. “I think I was on the phone to James just now.” 

“You think—oh, right. I hope you were. They need a sign that we’re alive and haven’t given up.” He smiled and rested a hand on his shoulder. “Your cheek is going to bruise. Did they hurt you anywhere else?” 

“Told you, downhill. And no, just my pride.” His eyes went to the door and when nothing happened he said, “Listen, I know you’re not a fan of the escape idea but what if I had a fairly solid plan?” 

Tony’s heart sped up as the words sunk in. “Even if we have a plan, we can’t plan for the weather. Or locked doors. Guards! What about where we are and how we get away from here? They’re going to notice that we’re gone and they’ll come after us immediately.” 

“So here’s my thinking,” Clint said, lowering his voice even more and not fighting any of Tony’s worries because they were justified. “They haven’t come to get you yet. I think this man wants something from Steve  _ and _ James but there must be something he really wants from James alone because they only took me.  _ And _ ,” he added, his eyes on the door again, “this isn’t the first time they’ve come after me. They tried in the summer, too. I think if we got you out, they’ll search but at least they won’t kill me.” 

“Oh great! So they’ll only  _ nearly  _ kill you?” Tony whisper-yelled. It wasn’t comforting that they really wanted something from James and therefore from Clint. Whatever happened to Clint affected Tony just as much. “Shouldn’t you be the one running if it is you they want? You’re faster and stronger.” 

“No, because if I run, they  _ will _ kill you.”  _ And I couldn’t live with myself if I left you here.  _ He wouldn’t be able to meet anyone’s eyes if he escaped and left a nineteen-year-old to fend for himself. “And I’m bigger, more easily noticed. You’ve got the dark hair, dark suit. You can disappear into the shadows and, yeah, it’s cold as hell but get inside.” He paused, once again watching the door but nothing happened. “I think nighttime would be best. Gas stations will be open, get to a payphone. I know we’re near the water so go in the opposite direction. I got half a hint to James. I don’t know if he picked it up, though.” 

Tony started trembling and kneading his hands nervously. He didn’t like this one bit. “At least it’d be warm in hell,” he said, sounding more bitter than he wanted to. “It’s December and if we’re by the river, it’ll be even colder. What if I can’t make it in time to a gas station?” He swallowed but it didn’t make much of a difference to how dry his throat felt. 

“You and I both know you’re not the giving up type,” Clint said and he didn’t know that but from what he knew about Steve, he just didn’t see the man with anyone any less stubborn than he was. “We’re riverside in Queens. Nothing but industry here and industry means trucks. Trucks need gas. There will be a gas station close enough for you to reach, Tony.”

“I’m not but I never wanted to have to fight for my life again either. No matter how stupid that is. Seeing as I’m with a mob boss.” He sighed and focused on Clint’s words instead. His mind was made up even if Tony’s wasn’t. That was obvious. He had thought through every detail and had an answer to every doubt Tony had. “How…” He had to pause, his voice shaking. “How am I getting out of here?”

“Fifty-left-twenty-left-down-thirty,” Clint said aloud, asking Tony to repeat it. “When they dragged me out, we passed the exit. Those numbers aren’t certain because our strides are different so start feeling for walls around five steps before, maybe less.” He worked his jaw, feeling the soreness setting in. “I know I can get the keys off the guard without him noticing.”

“You saw the exit?” he asked, surprised that he managed to get that much information in such a short amount of time. He repeated the numbers three more times in his mind, making sure they were in there. 

“Deaf not blind, keep up,” he said, nudging Tony’s shoulder playfully. “We passed this long hallway and at the end was a door and I could see the street. So  _ an _ exit, for sure.” 

“W-what about guards?”

Clint lowered his voice even more. “I don’t think we’re that heavily guarded at night. In the beginning when they used to wake me up all the time, maybe. But now? I still think that theory needs testing but here’s hoping.” 

Tony sighed and rubbed his sweaty hands on his legs. “How would you even test a theory like that?” he asked, confused. Where did he come up with these things? “Why don’t you want to stay here? This one star accommodation not good enough?” he joked weakly. 

“Oh, I do want to stay here but I’m greedy and I want it all for myself. Imagine all the bread I could have without you here. So scram,” he said, making shooing motions with his hands. “So my theory for testing it out… yeah, you’re not gonna like it. It involves me yelling in the middle of the night to see what happens. Surprise!” he said, doing jazz hands. 

“Now you’re just asking for more pain. There has to be an easier way to find it out?” He sat on the floor in front of Clint and looked to the window. Of course he wanted out of there and back to his life but was this really the way to go? 

“Any suggestions? I’m definitely open to suggestions,” Clint said because if there was a way to find out how many men were keeping watch at night that  _ didn’t  _ end in him getting another fist to the face, he would take it. 

“I don’t know,” he said, his voice small. It was obvious that he hated to admit it. “I’m not one to make plans to run away.” He remembered a time when he was hiding every cent in a tin box under his bed. Yes, he was planning on escaping but it was more of a plan to plan the plan. This was new to him and he didn’t do so well with new things. 

“I am,” Clint said firmly. “So then this is all we got. Worst case scenario, I get hit again. Still better than not knowing. To me, at least.” 

They had been talking a lot longer than Clint realized when the doors opened again and he was so sure they were going to take Tony, he flung his arm out, hitting it against Tony’s chest with the urgency he felt. 

He glared up at the men who just laughed and dropped off their evening meal, still laughing at Clint as they left. The fact that they saw him as so far beyond threatening made him hopeful about the number of guards they would have overnight. 

He lowered his arm and reached out for the trays of food, pulling them over to himself and Tony. The water still sat where they left it. 

He took a bite of his bread roll and said, “Let’s wait a night. We’ll try it tomorrow. That way we give James and Steve another day,” Clint said, hoping it would ease Tony’s worries at least a little, “and I’ve already agitated them enough for one day.” 

Tony stared at Clint when he protected him. Steve protecting and looking out for him was one thing but to have another tall blond guy doing the same thing was just funny to him.

“You know that I’m not completely helpless, right?” he asked, his potato in his hand. “I appreciate it though.”

“I don’t think you’re helpless,” Clint said quickly because he didn’t. “I wouldn’t have even told you this plan if I thought you were helpless. I just…” He shrugged. “Brotherly instinct I guess? I don’t mean that in a weird way. I realize I barely know you.” 

“Just making sure you know that I can look out for myself. Though I appreciate your concern,” he said with a smile. It did make him wonder if this was what Benni felt whenever he protected him. “An instinct is more than knowing or not knowing someone. You don’t have to justify that.” Finally, he took a bite out of his potato. 

“I do know that,” Clint reassured him again. But Tony was young, he was small, and he repeatedly mentioned how accustomed to safety he had become under Steve’s protection. Clint knew he could look after himself but when he added up all of those factors plus the fact that he liked Tony, it equaled big brother Clint. 

“Tell me,” Clint began, wanting to take Tony’s mind off everything for a moment, “apart from the obvious, what do you like most about Steve?” 

“Out of curiosity I’ll have to ask what the obvious is to like about Steve?” he asked with a smile. 

Clint chuckled. “Tall, might have been a Greek god in a past life, the voice. I mean, blonds aren’t my thing but Steve? I get it.”

Tony blushed ever so slightly, biting his lower lip. “In the summer, his hair had a ginger tint to it,” he said with a shy but dreamy smile. “He cares, he wants nothing but the best for those he loves. He’s a great listener. He has a bad temper and tends to be very dramatic and stubborn when he doesn’t get what he wants. I love that. He’s passionate and not afraid to make mistakes. But he also knows to apologize.” What  _ wasn’t _ there to like about him? Everything he did was amazing. 

Clint hadn’t expected an entire class report but it was sweet nonetheless and made him smile. Steve seemed to be a good topic to distract Tony with and Clint got a good insight into Rogers at the same time. 

“Hm,” Clint hummed, “it’ll be interesting to get to know more of that side of him.” 

“He’s a great guy. He never makes me feel bad or inferior.” He let out a sigh. Not even when Tony had nightmares and didn’t know where he was waking up. “It’ll take him some time to open up. Especially since you’re dating his best friend.” 

Tony put the potato down, his appetite gone. Nothing was the same without him. Tony would gladly not eat, sleep, or shower and he would endure it all, if he could only be with Steve. 

“Yeah, I didn’t think it would happen overnight and I’d picked up that me seeing James wasn’t his favorite thing in the world.” He sighed deeply, still picking at the roll but not eating it. Right now he even missed the way James got annoyed when he drank straight from the milk bottle. “Never thought a mob boss would be the person I get butterflies over. Not complaining, just didn’t see it coming.” 

Tony smiled at the last sentence. “Sometimes I can’t sleep and then I just turn and watch Steve sleep. I know I could easily wake him and I know that he would want me to do that, in order for me to not be alone.” He paused and shook his head. “But what he doesn’t know is that watching him sleep is all I need on those nights.” 

“I’d say ‘same’ but James is the light sleeper out of the two of us,” Clint said, a soft smile on his lips. “I have a lot of bad nights too and he always pulls me in tight, nuzzles his nose against my neck.” He laughed. “That little combo and boom! I’m sleeping like a baby.” 

“Steve’s bed is so warm and soft, add him to the mix with his muscles and him sleeping without a shirt and you got yourself the best thing ever. He’s so tall and strong. If he wanted he could just hide me away from everything and everyone and I love that.” He blushed again and this time he could feel how warm his cheeks were. 

Tony was cheesy. The kind of cheesy Clint usually made fun of people for but right then, in their current circumstances, maybe cheesy was just what they needed. 

Clint smiled. “The head of the Russian mob makes me pancakes with blueberry smiles in them,” Clint said, chuckling. “I wonder if they even know just how much we love them. You ever just hang out in Steve’s office and watch him? I think James has finally gotten used to my stalker tendencies.” 

“I work with Steve and he has me working in his office at my own desk. I spend most of my day around Steve,” he said with a shy smile. 

“Yeah, I meant it from a romantic point of view. Not literally ‘do you sit in his office’,” Clint said with a laugh. “I mean—eh, never mind. That’s sweet.” He was getting tired and didn’t feel like explaining himself. He dragged his hands down his face. 

He picked up the rest of his food and slowly ate it, thinking about all the things he wanted to do when he was back with James. First and foremost, leave the city behind for a while and go to that house in the countryside in France. 

“I stare at him every free minute of the day. Even while he sketches or reads,” Tony added, more to himself than to Clint, before getting up to get a glass of water for himself. The sooner they got them out of there, the better. 

+

  
  


Steve woke up in a cold sweat, covering his face with his hands and breathing in and out slowly to calm his racing heart. He wasn’t sure how many it had been but if he had to guess he would say that was somewhere around the thirtieth nightmare he had had about Tony. That one had even involved Clint. 

He sat up, debating whether he should just lay down and force himself to sleep or call it a night and try again tomorrow. It was nearing four in the morning if he was seeing the clock on the wall correctly. 

He laid back down but the stress and the guilt he felt weighed too heavily on him to even close his eyes. Every minute counted, every second. Tony was counting on him. Tony needed him and if Steve couldn’t sleep, he should use the extra hours to do whatever he could to get closer to finding them. 

He got out of bed and wrapped himself in a house robe, opening the door carefully and heading out into the hall. He was staying at James’ for the first time in years. In fact, they were all at James’. Bakuto seemed to communicate via James’ phone and no one wanted to take the risk of traveling between the two places and befalling the same fate as Tony and Clint. 

Steve was a few rooms down from James. Sarah was across the hall with Benni. Natalia and Dmitri were on the second floor below them. Dugan and Jones were the only two regulars who actually went home. Jones had siblings of his own to look after and Dugan had his fiancée. Maria was bunking over with some women from work just to be safe. 

In different circumstances, it would have been the weirdest, definitely chaotic slumber party Brooklyn had ever seen. 

Now it was more of a safe house situation. Everyone was constantly exhausted, constantly on edge, and missing Clint and Tony more and more as the days went by. 

Steve passed James’ door. It was shut. He stood outside it for a minute, hand raised to knock but he decided against it at the last minute. If James was finally sleeping, good for him. 

He headed downstairs as quietly as possible, stopping in the kitchen first and grabbing the first baked good he saw. His mother had been baking up a storm lately just to get her mind off it all and probably in hopes that those two stubborn boys of hers would eat. 

He grabbed three muffins and pulled out a kitchen chair, pushing it back in a second later and going to the living room instead for more comfortable seating. 

He plopped down on the couch with a deep sigh, picking at the first muffin. God, he missed Tony. And he worried about Tony. And he just wanted him safe and sound and in his arms. 

He wondered what kind of space he was being kept in. Was he given a blanket? A cot? Something other than a hard floor, at least. 

Was he warm? It was December and so cold already and his Tony hated the cold. 

And they still didn’t know if they were being kept separate. The last thing he wanted was for Tony to be going through all of this on his own. To not know why he was taken. He hadn’t even been given the opportunity to talk to Steve like Clint was. Granted, Clint hadn’t even been able to hear James. That must’ve hurt. 

Even so, what Steve wouldn’t give right now to just be able to hear Tony’s voice. Hear him tell Steve some corny joke that by all means should not be funny or even worth the time it takes to say it but that always made Steve grin. He would give anything to be able to hear Tony confidently use an expression that was definitely not English and then watch the way his nose scrunched in frustration when Steve pointed that out. 

He would— 

“Penny for your thoughts?” 

_ “ _ Fucking hell, _ ”  _ Steve gasped, clapping a hand to his chest and glancing over at James where he sat at his desk, a smile on his lips. “You’re an asshole, James.” 

“It’s not my fault you don’t check a room before entering it.” 

“It’s 4am! I shouldn’t  _ have  _ to. What the hell are you doing up anyway?” James' expression darkened and he shrugged. “Ah. Nightmares.” 

James nodded. “Tea?” he offered, raising his cup. 

Steve shook his head. “A muffin’ll do me just fine, thanks.” 

“What if we split up? Cover more ground,” James blurted out and Steve wondered how long he had been thinking about it. 

Steve shook his head slowly. “Whatever we do, we do together.” 

“What if we don’t find them for another month? What if the locations we have… what if none of them pan out?” James was nervous and worried but he wasn’t panicking, he was just making them both face the harsh reality that could very well be the truth. 

“Then we’ll do that together.” James snorted lightly and Steve looked away from his muffin over to him. “What?” 

“Since when are you a team player?” 

Steve smiled but it was sad. “I’ve recently been forced to learn the importance of being able to rely on people, to know on whom I can count.” He pulled off a bit of muffin and just held it between his fingers. “Now that I know exactly who that is and is not, I’m not letting any of you out of my sight. If we stake out a place, it’s the four of us. All of us covering each other.” 

James nodded. “Alright,” he agreed. “Together.”

“That’s all I want. That’s all I’ve wanted this entire time,” Steve said, his voice even softer now and James wondered if it would crack if he raised it. He ran his hands through his hair, inhaling sharply through his nose, fighting back the stinging he felt behind his eyes. “I want you and Tony, ma, Clint and Benni and everyone all together. That’s… that’s all I’ve wanted since I got out of the hospital. I want my family together, James.”

James got up and went over to the couch, sitting down beside Steve and putting a hand on his shoulder. Steve leaned into him, closing his eyes. James pressed a quick kiss to the side of Steve’s head, giving him a squeeze, and then letting go. 

“We’re gonna get them back,” James said, the conviction in his voice giving Steve a small boost.

He turned to look at James, his blue eyes tinted red. “Good, because I just got you back.” 

“You never lost me, Steve.” 

“Liar. I did. For a while there. And now I’ve got you back and you’re in love and you’re happy and then along comes this fucking shit—” He cut himself off and leaned back on the couch. “I never got to apologize to him. Not properly.” 

“To who?”

“To Clint. For the diner incident. Pretty sure Natalia hates me.” 

James chuckled. “That’s just her face. She just doesn’t trust you yet. And Clint’s not the grudge-holding type. He understands why you did what you did. So do I.” 

Steve nodded, processing. He eyed the tea James had and then picked it up, bringing it up to his nose and inhaling. “Thought you said this was tea?”

James took the cup back and sipped the brandy that was in it. Clint’s favorite. “No, I offered  _ you _ tea, I never said  _ this _ was tea.” 

Steve laughed. “What a lush.” 

“So I drink when I’m stressed. You eat,” he accused, pointing at the tiny bite of muffin left in Steve’s hands and the other two he had sitting in his lap. Steve laughed. “So did you want to keep crying or should we get a head start on the day?”

Steve laughed again, shaking his head. “You know, you need longer periods in between comforting James and jackass James.” 

“Clint likes it. Says it keeps him on his toes.” 

“I feel like there is a lot about him I’ve yet to see.” 

“Understatement of the year. Come on,” he said, standing and offering Steve his hand. “Let’s get to work.” 

They headed over to his desk and he switched on the lamp, looking over the maps and documents and information they had. Steve watched James quietly compare notes he and Dmitri had made, getting to work without even needing a second. 

“How are you?” 

James didn’t look up as he said, “I’m fine. Let’s work.”

“James. You heard him. You heard his voice, you heard him get hit. You spend a lot of time reassuring me and comforting me and—“

James stood up straight. “I’m going out of my mind here, Steve, but more than ever I want to just ball up all of that, push it aside, and focus on getting him back. When he’s in my arms, in our bed, then I can let all of this come out.” He paused, collected himself and said, “No matter what happens I need you to promise me something.” 

“Of course, anything.” 

“You will not kill Bakuto.” Steve opened his mouth to protest. “I get it. You want someone who put the love of your life through this shit to eat a bullet and be gone but, Steve… I want him to suffer,” James said, his voice trembling with rage that wasn’t there a moment ago. 

James hadn’t been able to eat or sleep since hearing Clint on the phone. He had sounded as calm and collected as he usually did to the untrained ear but James heard the hidden note of fear in Clint’s voice. And whenever it was too quiet, he heard the sound of Clint being slapped. 

Steve nodded. “I promise. Let’s make the bastard regret it.” Steve picked up one of the documents and read over it for a second and then said, “Did you ever figure out what he was trying to say?” 

“I think,” he said, pointing to two of the locations that were both situated along the East river, “that the word was ‘river’.” 

  
  


+

The next day carried on in its usual fashion. Clint and Tony woke up and sat in the darkness of a winter morning, awaiting their first meal. It was delivered with all the normal levels of grace and kindness, the trays thrown onto the floor and the food clinging for dear life to the thin metal instead of rolling onto the floor. 

The water was sat down more carefully and this time it was two glass bottles of water instead of two glasses. Clint got up to get the water first, handing Tony his and then bringing his tray over to join him on his mattress so they could eat together. 

Clint was more used to silence with Tony present now. It didn’t feel as consuming. It was almost comforting. Occasionally Tony would nudge him so Clint could look up and they would talk but he wasn’t really the type to ask questions even when Clint could see that he very clearly wanted to. Clint normally just moved on to a different topic unless he really wanted to answer the unspoken question. 

He learned a little more about Tony as they chatted and he tried to distract him from the plan they had for later tonight. He asked what he did for Steve and he explained in vague terms, obviously protecting Steve’s privacy, which Clint respected. 

Clint was telling the story of how he met Natalia when their last meal was delivered and again they ate in companionable silence and then, now that it was too dark for conversation, they simply waited until they assumed it was about midnight. 

Clint got ready to stand, brushing against Tony accidentally and he felt Tony’s hand tremble. He stopped and grabbed the hand, giving it a squeeze. 

“It’s okay,” he reassured him. Grateful for the moonlight shining into the room, he saw Tony nod. He didn’t look sure of the plan, Clint could see the worry in his eyes, but he had to try. He would do his best to keep any beating that came focused on himself. Sure, Tony could take care of himself but Clint was twelve years his senior and letting the boy take any kind of beating when Clint was there to volunteer as a punching bag just felt wrong. 

Clint walked over to the door, standing by it and closing his eyes as he counted to ten and then loudly shouted, “Hey!” 

There was no immediate response but they might have a bit of a walk to get to their room. He thought he remembered seeing a door open to what looked like where the guards could sit and have a coffee. 

He looked over at Tony, checking that he was okay and wondering if any noises had been made. 

Tony, who had only ever heard Clint whisper or speak softly, was surprised at how loud he could get. His eyes were fixed on the door for a minute and then another. 

“Why is no one coming?” he mouthed. 

Clint shrugged. He inhaled deeply and then banged on the door. Honestly, they couldn’t have thought so little of them to not even guard them at night, right? And then Clint thought about it from their point of view: a deaf, broke bar owner and a, well, for lack of a better term, kid. He could see how they might assume James and Steve were the only fighters in the relationships. 

Again, no one came and then finally Clint saw Tony jump. And he moved back as well. 

“Someone yelled,” he told Clint. “It didn’t sound close. That way.” He pointed to the right from where the yelling had come. “How do we get them inside for you to take the key?” 

Clint plopped down in front of Tony on the floor to talk for a minute in the small sliver of moonlight. 

“Tomorrow when they bring the last meal. I’ll agitate them, make them put their hands on me. I’ll grab ‘em then. Let’s sleep. We both need all the rest we can get. You okay?” he asked as an afterthought, hesitating before he stood and waiting for an answer. 

“You’re sure I can leave you here?” Tony asked, wringing his hands again. 

Clint reached out and grabbed Tony’s hand again. He squeezed it tightly and then relaxed. “Yes. I’ll survive. You get out there and you bring back our scary fellas, okay?” Clint was terrified but hiding it under a gentle smile and a joke like he always did. No matter how scared he was, though, he knew he wouldn’t be able to live with himself or look Steve, Sarah, or Tony’s little brother in the eye if they switched roles. 

“I promise I’ll hurry. You know they will move everything between heaven and earth to get you,” he said, squeezing Clint’s hand. “Sorry if that’s not an English saying. I still mix up Italian with English sometimes.” Why was he feeling so nervous? Was it because he was scared to fail? “Let’s try to sleep.” 

“It’s okay, I get what you mean. Thank you,” Clint said, squeezing Tony’s hand one last time and then standing and going back to his mattress. “Goodnight, Tony.” 

  
  


Clint was nursing a pretty painful black eye. In an attempt to keep his plans from seeming suspicious, he had been antagonizing the guards all day—yelling, banging on the door, asking for a pillow had all been on the to-do list so far and for whatever reason, they had only bothered to come in once and shut him up. Maybe they were as tired of being stuck in that building as Clint and Tony were. 

But when they did come in, they made sure to get the message across that it was time to shut up. 

“Jesus,” Clint swore, gently touching the skin around his eye that felt like it was on fire. He ripped a piece of his shirt off and dipped it in his water, dabbing it on his eye for some relief from the stinging. 

When it was about the time that the last meal of the day would be brought in, Clint sat obediently on his mattress. The men swung the door open and came in, eyeing him distrustfully. He drew a fake halo above his head with a finger and clapped his hands together like he was praying. 

The first man put the tray down beside Tony and the other came over to Clint, his tray in his hand, and sat it down, crossing his arms over his chest. He stood there in front of Clint, looking down at him. He kicked Clint’s outstretched foot, taunting him. 

“No more fight left in you?” he asked or at least that’s what Clint thought he read. 

“Nah, just waiting for someone worth my time,” Clint retorted. The man sneered and bent down to be in Clint’s space. 

“You’re in a cage and you th—”

Clint grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him forward, sliding himself to the side and forcing the man’s face into the hard wall behind him. He slipped his hand around while the guard was trying to push his face off the wall and snatched the keys, slipping them into his pocket (hopefully) quietly. 

He pulled back, blood running out of his nose. “You little,” was all Clint managed to read before he was hit again and this time, everything went dark. 

Tony watched and waited for the men to leave again in order not to antagonize them any further. Clint’s face was all colors of the rainbow by now and there was no need to add to that. He put his crumbled up jacket under Clint’s head and rested a hand on his shoulder. Mentally, he was already preparing to go out. Fifty left, twenty left, down thirty. Away from the river to a gas station. He could make a few calls with the change Clint had given him. 

Clint stirred and woke up a few minutes later. When Tony asked him if he was okay he gave him his usual grin and thumbs up. It was then that Tony realized Clint was just as scared as he was but was unwilling to admit it. 

“Let’s do it tonight. I don’t think there’s any point in waiting,” Tony said, helping Clint sit up. 

“Yeah, I agree,” he said, rolling his jaw to get it to click. Clint turned to look at the jacket Tony must have put under his head. He really was sweet. Not at all what he expected of Steve’s fella. “Thanks for that. What’s the damage?” he asked, pointing to his face and then reaching for his water. 

“Some swelling and a few more bruises.” Tony watched him sit back. If only there was more he could do for him! “Can we go over everything again please?”

“Sure,” he said, grateful that Tony wanted to make sure he really had the plan clearly in mind. 

Slowly, Clint repeated everything—the number of steps, where to go, and what to do. He had Tony recite the phone numbers he would try to call and then Tony made sure the coins were secure in his back pocket where they would make the least noise. He tightened his belt as much as he could, creating an extra hole in it because of how thin he was now. 

“Ready?” 

  
  


After all the planning and going through the details again Tony still didn’t feel a hundred percent ready or sure but that was just who he was. Clint had risked a lot to test the waters. Out of respect for him he would try. 

“Let’s do it,” he said and took the keys from Clint to unlock the door as silently as possible. 

He opened the door and looked around the hallway to make sure that no one was there. 

“I’ll be back with Steve and James as soon as I can,” he promised Clint, one hand on his shoulder. This didn’t feel right. Why couldn’t they both make a run for it? “I’ll take the keys and lock the door from outside.” Then at least they wouldn’t find the keys in Clint’s possession, which would probably spare him physical consequences. 

Tony grabbed his jacket for an extra layer of protection, even though it wouldn’t make much of a difference.

“See you in a minute,” he promised and closed the door without making a sound. Once the door was locked, he slid the keys into the inner pocket of his jacket, holding them there with one hand so that they wouldn’t make any noise. 

Fifty left was first, but Tony only needed forty-three. He crouched down to look around the corner. It was dark but he was hoping that his eyes had adjusted enough for him to notice shadows in the dark. 

Suddenly he heard a noise, something that sounded like someone putting a cup down too hard on a saucer. Tony didn’t know how far away it was or even where the noise came from. He counted to a hundred to give himself enough time to gather the courage to continue. 

Twenty left to get to the stairs and he was halfway out of there. His heart was pounding in his chest when he reached the top of the stairs. Soon he would be out of there! 

He crouched down and counted to thirty, listening in the darkness for any noise that would indicate that guards were walking. 

Nothing. 

Tony walked on the left side of the stairs, staying close to the cold wall beside him. His right hand was holding the keys in his pocket in place and his left hand was on the wall, supporting his trembling body on his way down. 

Thirty steps later Tony crouched down once again. He felt like he wasn’t getting enough air, which was ridiculous because there was no reason why he wouldn’t be. He thought back to how his mother would always calm him down when he cried or was scared. It helped and for now it was enough for him to go on. 

It didn’t take long for him to feel for the door Clint had mentioned. Tony pushed the handle down, finding it locked. Slowly and silently he pulled the keys from his pocket and tried one key after another to find the one to unlock the door. It didn’t take longer than a few minutes but to Tony it felt like hours. His hands were getting sweaty and he had almost lost all hope when he found the right key. 

The door unlocked and he made it outside where he was greeted by harsh and cold wind that stung his eyes almost immediately. How was he supposed to make it in this weather? He needed to try. He promised Clint! There was a chance that he would be back with Steve soon. What was the cold when he had Steve to look forward to? 

As silently as possible he closed the door behind him and looked around. This had to be the back entrance, or well, exit in his case. He saw lights around the corner where the street must have been. Good, he could use the light to show him the way. 

The cold hurt him all around, which was terrible but made it a little easier to get used to it as he pressed against the wall of the building and peeked around the corner to see if there were guards there. He couldn’t hear anything but the wind. It was eerie silent here, which he wasn’t used to. 

He rounded the corner, now pressed against the short side of the building, noticing the car that was parked in front of the building. If only he knew how to break into a car and drive it. That would make things so much easier. 

For now it was a relief to see signs that it had been there for a few hours now. No one had come into the building and there were only so many people that could fit into one car. That would be useful information for Steve and James and that thought made Tony smile ever so slightly. 

He didn’t expect to see two more cars when he finally made his way around the next corner to the side of the building that was facing the street. Two! And if that wasn’t bad enough, the front door opened and out came three men. Tony quickly went back around the corner, hoping they hadn’t noticed him. It took him a second to react but that wasn’t long enough for them to notice him, right? 

Unfortunately, he was wrong. He heard them speaking and one called for Tony to come out. They probably thought he was a homeless person looking for shelter from the wind. 

Tony froze in place until he saw the shadows of the men getting bigger and bigger. Too late he convinced his cold and stiff body to move and run. The men recognized him, immediately started yelling and coming after him. One man grabbed him by his wrist but he managed to wiggle out of his grip and kicked the man blindly. He stumbled and fell into the snow but was quick to get up again, immediately starting to run again. 

The second time he was caught he knew it was going to be nearly impossible to get away from them. He saw the gun holstered in the chest strap and reached for it without even thinking about it. Steve had taught him and even though he didn’t think he would ever have to remember it again, he did now. He cocked the gun and shot the man in front of him. With trembling hands he cocked the gun again and shot blindly into the snow until all six shots were fired and he was left without ammo. 

Tony threw the weapon at them, which did nothing to intimidate them, of course. Without paying any attention to the man he had shot, who was now lying face down in the snow, they grabbed Tony. No matter how much he kicked and thrashed, there was no getting out of this one. 

Hoping against hope, Tony prayed he would be brought back to Clint immediately. Instead he was thrown on the floor in front of the stairs. One of the men headed upstairs, yelling something while the other kicked Tony in the stomach and cursed at him. He didn’t need to speak their language to understand that nothing nice was being said. 

Others joined in on punishing Tony for his attempted escape and when they were done he was barely conscious. 

From far away he heard a door open and he felt them shoving him into a new room. Only seconds from fainting, Tony hoped he would be back with Clint. He felt the way he was being pushed, felt the cold floor under his face, and passed out from exhaustion and pain. 

  
  


Clint woke up coughing and choking and it made him sit up despite the screaming protest of every inch of his body. He wasn’t able to figure out the extent of the damage just yet but pulling his hand away from his mouth to see the blood he had coughed up gave him a pretty good idea. 

And then he realized he could really only see out of one eye. A flash of dread and panic washed over him, wondering if he was permanently blinded but he carefully inspected the eye and realized it was just swollen shut and as sore as the rest of him. 

He scooted himself back to lean against the wall and catch his breath. Breathing was hard, his ribs hurt, and he suspected he had a few fractures. Even his back against the cold concrete wall was painful and he vaguely remembered boots being driven into his body from every angle. 

They’d realized Tony was gone too quickly for Clint’s liking. A group of men had come in and grabbed Clint, pinned him against the wall and taken turns hitting and kicking. It reminded him of when he was ambushed by Grant, Marko, and Creed outside his bar. James had come to his rescue. Not this time. 

They hadn’t even come to check on him or bring food which meant— 

He glanced over in the darkness that was slowly dissipating as the sun rose—and how long he had been out, he had no idea—to see Tony’s slender form curled up on his mat, bruised and bloodied and seemingly unconscious. 

Clint inhaled sharply and forced himself up, hobbling over because a searing pain had shot up his left shin the moment he had tried putting any weight on it. He pushed his injuries aside for the moment, still swallowing blood and at this point he wasn’t sure where it was even coming from. 

Clint all but collapsed on the ground beside Tony, his movements graceless but he was sure Natalia would forgive him. He wasn’t even sure why he was thinking about that. Maybe he just missed her. 

“Tony,” Clint said, his throat hoarse and he could tell that his voice had cracked on the word. Clint squinted, looking for the subtle rise and fall of Tony’s body to indicate that he was breathing. It was still too dark in the room, so he gently pressed a finger to a seemingly uninjured area on his neck and almost passed out from relief when he felt a pulse. 

He sat back, removing his hand and wincing. Even his ass hurt. What kind of monsters  _ literally  _ kicked his ass? 

“Tony,” he tried again, just desperate to see him actually communicate and show signs that he could talk and think and wasn’t beat into a coma. 

Tony felt someone touch him, which was something that would always wake him immediately no matter how much pain he was in. Everything hurt and he felt cold but when he looked up and saw Clint, albeit blurry and only for one second, he nearly smiled. 

“They caught me,” he whispered, his lips barely moving. He wanted to shift, trying to sit up but found that his body hurt way too much to move. He felt defeated. 

The guilt hit Clint like another kick to the gut, a lump appearing in his throat and a nauseating feeling in his gut. This was all his fault. He had convinced Tony to try to escape. He had sent Tony out only for him to get caught and beaten. If only he had pushed his pride and his past aside and been a good captive, Tony wouldn’t be in the pain he was in now. They wouldn’t be free but anything was better than this. 

“I’m so sorry,” Clint breathed, not even sure he had actually voiced the words or just mouthed them. What the hell had he been thinking? Risking Tony’s life like this? He gently touched Tony’s fingers, curling two of his around them and giving them a very light squeeze. “I’m sorry, Tony.” 

Instinctively, Tony curled his fingers around Clint’s. He tried to say something, or at least move his lips for Clint to read, but he didn’t have an ounce of strength left and passed out again. 

Tony didn’t know just how much time he had spent sleeping. Every now and then he woke up for a few seconds or even a minute but fell asleep again. Sleeping was better than trying to deal with the pain and soreness of his body. 

He woke up when he heard the door open. The movement and noise made him flinch, honestly scared that this was it now, that they were coming in to kill them both and send Steve and James parts of their bodies as proof. Instead of that, they put down the usual tray with food and water and left without saying anything. Tony was frozen in place where he was half-sitting, half-lying on his mattress and looked at Clint with wide eyes. 

“Food?” he asked, confused. “I didn’t expect them to bring us anything anymore.” He took a good look at Clint, taking in the bruises he could see, assuming that there was a lot more underneath the thin layer of clothing. “Are you okay?” he asked, now sitting up, grunting and groaning as he did. 

Clint’s good eye went to Tony the moment he registered movement, took in his words, but he couldn’t respond just yet to any of it. He eyed the food and water, the severity of the situation seeming to only just now sink in. 

He wasn’t broken, they hadn’t  _ broken _ him. Clint Barton refused to ever let anyone do that to him but he had lost some of his fight, his cockiness, and when he turned to Tony, he simply nodded, forgoing his usual smile and thumbs up because he didn’t have it in him. 

“Guess they still need us,” he said after a moment but he still hadn’t moved towards the food. He’d finally found a position that didn’t make everything hurt and no matter how thirsty he was, he wasn’t ready for the pain of walking. 

Tony couldn’t stand seeing Clint this hurt and silent. Maybe it was just him and he was completely wrong but he felt like he could see through Clint. He forced himself up and went to sit next to Clint, dragging the tray as close to the mattress as he could. Most important was water. He knew that his stomach was empty and his body would need food sooner or later, it was just that he didn’t feel like eating. He filled the glasses and handed Clint the first one, clinking their glasses together. 

“To being needed. I guess.” Tony gave him a weak smile and drank his water slowly. The little physical contact did a lot to comfort him and ease his pain. 

Clint nodded, gave Tony a small smile, and took a sip, closing his eyes at the feeling of water washing down his throat. He was so thirsty and what he wouldn’t give for a bath. 

It was nice having Tony beside him, the warmth and contact was soothing, and he found that for the first time since being in there, he wanted to talk but didn’t know what to say. So he stayed quiet and kept his eyes closed, letting images of James play on repeat. 

Tony moved the empty glass between his hands as he tried to sort through his feelings and thoughts. It took him some time to actually form the words but when he was ready, he gently tapped Clint’s shoulder for him to turn and read his lips. 

“We’re not going to see them again, are we?” he asked, glad that Clint wasn’t able to hear his voice break. 

Clint felt his heart skip a beat. He had spent the night wondering that himself. Doubting it the longer he thought about it. He wasn’t sure and he didn’t want to give Tony false hope or, at this point, himself either. 

“I don’t know,” Clint said softly, trying to keep his voice steady. He turned to Tony, gave him a sad smile but didn’t say anything else. 

Tony nodded and took a deep but shaky breath, trying his best to keep the tears at bay. Now wasn’t the time to feel sorry for himself. 

“I’m glad you’re here though.” He reached his hand out for Clint to take, craving more physical reassurance. 

Clint slipped his hand into Tony’s and gave it a squeeze. He would always be grateful to not have to go through this alone. “I’m glad you’re here too,” he said, his smile a little less sad this time.

“You know, I really wanted to go on vacation with Steve somewhere far away one day. It’s a shame we didn’t do it when we could have.” 

“I know the feeling. James has a place in France. Said he wanted to go next spring.” He felt his hand tighten around Tony’s when he said James’ name, feeling a pain in his chest. “Where were you and Steve going?” 

“France? Wow, that sounds exotic and romantic.” He rested his head on Clint’s shoulder for one second until he remembered that Clint needed to read his ips. “I don’t know. Anywhere would be fine with me, really. I’ve barely left Brooklyn.” He swallowed a few times. Talking was getting a bit more difficult. “I… I really thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with Steve.” 

“Exotic,” Clint repeated with a smile. Clint was about to say that he agreed and just wanted out of New York too when Tony added the last part and Clint felt his smile drop some. “Me too, I…” he trailed off, forming his thoughts. “I knew there would be hard times but I never really—I mean, I gave him my tags. This was  _ it _ for me.” He looked away, only bringing his face back to see if Tony had anything to add.

Tony tilted his head to one side as Clint spoke. “Steve gave me his tags too. I left them in the last location for him to find.” He squeezed Clint’s hand in his. “I’m still grateful for the time I got with him. Even if it was only a few months. That’s more than I had before.” 

“Smart,” Clint said, although not sure he would’ve been able to do the same thing if the situation was reversed. He had nothing of James’ and he wished he did. “There’s just so many people I wish I could say goodbye to.” 

“It’s only smart if he actually found them. What if he didn’t?” He let out a sigh. “I would give everything to see him one last time. And to kiss my brother goodbye.” He swallowed again and rubbed his face with his free hand. He regretted doing so because it hurt, which meant that his face was probably beaten up good. “I’ve always wanted to taste Chinese food. Have you had it? Is it good?” 

“I haven’t spent much time around Steve, but if he’s anything like James, you can be sure he found them,” Clint said, confident in that knowledge. “Never had it.” He sighed. “I’d give anything to see James too. Even just once. Him and Natalia. She was supposed to meet me that morning…  _ before _ .” 

He drank some more water, needing to do something to distract himself, and then decided to reach for the food too. He grabbed the bread first, taking a small bite and chewing until there was nothing left to chew. “I’d give my right hand for a pizza.” 

“I was looking forward to meeting you. Cooking a big festive meal with Sarah for guests—I was so excited.” He thought about eating something too but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. He wanted proper food, a nice cup of tea afterwards. He wanted to brush his teeth, put on his soft pyjamas and let Steve hold him. 

The thought of never seeing Steve again hurt more than any of his bruises or cracked ribs or whatever else they had done to him. It was making it impossible for Tony to breathe and he hated himself for it. 

“Do you… do you have any idea what day or date it is? Even roughly?” Tony asked. 

Clint squeezed Tony’s hand when he noticed the way his chest was moving, like he couldn’t get his breath. He could guess the reason, so he didn’t comment on it. 

“No clue. But today is really, really fucking awful so probably Monday and I’d guess we’re entering late December. Why?” 

“I didn’t wrap Steve’s gifts. I got him a book my mom read to me even though it wasn’t for children. And I got him a nice sketchbook. It’s nothing special but… I didn’t know what else to get him and I was hoping I’d still have time to get something nicer after our dinner.” Again he could feel the tears stinging in his eyes. Only this time it was even more difficult to hold them back. 

He laughed and shook his head, quickly wiping his eyes. “I’m sorry. It’s just…” He trailed off and shrugged. It’s just what? That he couldn’t quite handle the thought of not getting out of there? Of dying sickly thin, bruised, filthy and in torn clothes? 

All in all it was a lot like the situation he had been in just one year ago. This time he didn’t have his brother to worry about and he wasn’t going through it alone. That was something. 

“It’s ok,” Clint said comfortingly, “I get it. If you wanna let it out, I’m the last person who’ll judge you for it.” He looked away, feeling the surge of emotion in himself and blinking back tears. “I don’t want to die in here either.” 

  
  


+

  
  


No one said anything, no one brought it up or pointed it out or treated them any differently. No one said a word to James or Steve until they were ready because the pictures Bakuto had sent two days ago brought tears to both of their eyes and continued to plague them. 

Tony and Clint were sitting in the corner of a room, hands clasped together, leaned against each other asleep, covered in blood and bruises, obvious tear streaks on their faces. In the second photo they were awake, hands raised to protect their faces and there was no third picture. There was no telling if they had been hurt more or not. No way to know if how they saw them in those pictures was the last bit of terror inflicted on them. 

James had thrown the pictures down and then Steve angrily tore them to shreds and tossed them into the fireplace before storming out a second after James. Dmitri, Natalia, Dugan, and Jones watched them leave and then continued working. They had narrowed it down but due to the recent snowstorm, they hadn’t been able to execute their ambulance plan just yet. They were slowly clearing the roads but the way to Queens still had some work before it was safe and Steve and James weren’t about to take the risk of saving them only to slide off the road. 

“I can’t take it, Steve,” James said, crossing his arms to stop his hands from shaking as he paced in the kitchen. “I can’t take the thought of anyone hurting him. Hurting  _ them _ .” 

“I know,” Steve replied, his voice a strange mix of pain, fear and disgust. “It looks just like when Howard got to him. It makes me  _ sick _ .” 

“At least they’re together,” James said, the only comforting piece of information they had received in weeks. “Seems like they like each other too.” 

Clint and Tony weren’t alone. They were beaten and starved and probably sleep-deprived but they weren’t alone. They had each other. 

“I’m not so sure I’ll be able to honor that promise not to kill the son of a bitch,” Steve said through gritted teeth. 

“I’m not sure I want you to. Just don’t make it quick,” James said. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, opening them again and looking over at Steve with a cold, emotionless gaze. “Let’s go see if our delivery boy is ready to talk.” 

  
  


The irony of what they were currently doing wasn’t lost on either of the mob bosses as they walked into the dark room, rolling up their sleeves. The door shut behind them and then it was just the three of them in the cold, damp room. 

Naturally they had made the accommodations as uncomfortable as possible. It was a dark warehouse near the piers in Red Hook with concrete floors and walls, a busted in window towards the back that therefore provided little to no relief from the cold, and dripping pipes. Steve had come into possession of it after a man on his protection payroll had failed to keep up. 

It was a hellhole of a place on a good day but try mid-December stripped down to the bare essentials—pants and an undershirt, no shoes—and tied tightly to a metal chair, a faulty pipe located right above your head that dripped on you constantly at a steady rhythm, preventing you from sleep or a moment’s peace. 

Yeah, for this poor bastard Dmitri and Dugan had caught, the warehouse was his worst nightmare. 

The man watched them, his eyes bloodshot from the lack of sleep and his skin pale. A shiver ran up his spine as the wind blew, that broken window in the back serving a purpose for Steve and James as it gave their hostage a little more incentive to answer. 

When Bakuto sent the latest photos of Clint and Tony, he had done so via messenger. He always had, they assumed, but this one wasn’t so successful at making a stealthy delivery. Dugan had spotted him and Dmitri had taken him down with a single knife to the leg. Now the poor unfortunate soul was theirs to play with until he gave them what they wanted. 

He had held up very well the first day. To his credit they hadn’t managed to get anything out of him yet. James and Steve had been relatively mild in comparison to what they were capable of but they didn’t want to lose control and lose their best lead. Today, with emotions running high, they cared less. 

Today, it was answer or die. 

Steve went over to the man and looked down at him, his hands in his pockets. “You going to talk today?” he asked and the man averted his gaze. Steve swung his arm out, a sharp, controlled movement, and hit him so hard he nearly toppled over but Steve caught the chair and then wondered if he shouldn’t have just let him hit the ground. 

“Oh, he will,” James said, coming over with a small leather pouch that he unrolled onto a nearby table. James was better at keeping his cool during all of this. Steve let his temper take over. Neither method was wrong but if the way the man’s gaze locked onto James who was whistling a tune happily while testing the sharpness of some metal picks was anything to go by it seemed he had a least favorite mob boss. 

Steve moved to stand behind the man, putting a hand on either side of his shoulders to hold him firmly in place. The man flinched and Steve felt his heartbeat speed up. 

“What do you need from me?” 

Steve and James also had very different ways of—well, there was no sugarcoating it—torturing. Steve preferred the kicks and punches route with a dash of non-fatal gunshot wounds to spice things up.

James was more calculated, more deliberate. Like with Loki. People don’t like to feel unsafe in their own homes in their own beds while they slept, so he made it so for Loki. He wasn’t sure what his angle was yet for this man but he knew it would be excruciating and slow. 

“Hold his arms still.” 

Steve grabbed him by the wrists, feeling the man’s pulse speed up even faster as James walked towards him with the thin metal rods in his hand. They were about the length of a chopstick but just thicker than a needle. 

James stopped in front of him and gave him a smile that made him shudder and Steve laughed. 

“Tell us where they are or I’m going to slide these one by one under your fingernails,” James said, his tone still incredibly casual. “I’ll give you one chance before I insert the first one.” He grabbed the man’s hand despite him trying to wriggle away and lined up the needle with his index finger. “You have ten seconds. Where are they?” 

The man was sweating now, such a contrast from the shivering, slightly blue-hued man they had seen when they’d walked in. 

“ _ I’ll never tell _ ,” he said in Japanese. 

Steve and James exchanged a look. 

“Good, I’ve never done this before. Always wanted to try.” 

  
  


It was almost two hours later that Steve and James returned, blood spattered and drained. The moment they walked in, Natalia was rounding the corner for them, still pissed that she hadn’t been allowed to join. 

“So?” 

James nodded and Steve said, “He confirmed one of the locations and told us all we need to know.” 

“Are you sure it wasn’t a lie?” Jones, who had stayed behind at the house, asked. 

“Well, if it was that’s truly terrible because he’s somewhere at the bottom of the Gowanus Canal now,” James said, heading for the living room to circle the location before he went to wash up and start planning with Steve. 

Steve followed, right on his heels, already strategizing as he walked and James agreed or disagreed with his proposals. Before they knew it, they had been planning the rescue for an hour, neither having changed or bathed yet. 

At the three hour mark, a solid, satisfying plan had been formed including individual duties and responsibilities. It would be an initial four man team—Steve, James, Dugan and Dmitri. There would be others—Jones, Alexei, Vitaly and a few more of James’ men—stationed around the perimeter. No one else in and no one else out. In fact, they were instructed to shoot to kill any of Bakuto’s men that they spotted trying to get away. 

They would go tomorrow night, deciding that although it would make it more difficult to spot Bakuto’s men, the same would be true for them. 

Dmitri went and picked up the ambulance, deciding that they would still use it for the element of surprise and because it would most likely be the best way to bring Clint and Tony back judging by the state of them in those photos. 

“Alright,” James said, visibly incredibly tired. He rubbed a hand across his forehead, sliding it down to pinch the bridge of his nose and sigh as his eyes shut, willing away a headache. “You know your job. Let’s call it a night, go over it again in the morning.” 

Dmitri and Dugan immediately excused themselves but Natalia stayed, which James had been expecting. Sarah entered the room but Benni was upstairs asleep. She had ushered him out of the living room taking a back way the moment she had seen her boys come back covered in blood. 

“You know I can hold my own,” Natalia said, her tone furious but controlled. 

_ “I don’t recall ever saying you couldn’t,”  _ James responded in Russian and Steve’s tired brain couldn’t keep up with it but he assumed that was James’ intention.  _ “Listen, Natalia, I don’t care what you say, you’re not coming with us.” _

_ “I’m just as quiet as you are and Clint was mine  _ first,” she snapped, catching Steve’s eye where he stood still staring at the map and running the plan in his head to check for weak points. 

_ “Yes, you are and yes he was. But I have another job for you. Tell you about it in the morning.”  _

Natalia raised one perfect eyebrow, her lips quirking up into a tiny smile.  _ “Alright.” _

“Good. Now, I think the four of us should also call it a night,” James announced and Steve stood up straight, his back cracking with the movement. “Getting old, Rogers?” 

Steve smiled. It was small but genuine and Sarah almost cheered. She hadn’t seen a smile on his face in weeks. “Me? Old? You know…” he trailed off, reaching for James’ head and then slowly gripping one strand of hair and tugging it out. He widened his eyes comically, the joy of possibly holding Tony in his arms tomorrow night was like electricity circulating through his body, energizing every cell. “Is this a grey hair?” 

James smacked his hand away and laughed and this time it was Natalia who was shocked to see the little glimpse of happiness there, of hope. “Just means I’m more mature than you.” 

“In your dreams,” Steve said, walking over to offer his mother his arm as they headed upstairs. 

James extended his to Natalia, dropping her off on the second floor and then being grabbed by Sarah who held them both close as they ascended the stairs together. 

“I love you two,” she said as they took the last step onto the landing. She looked up at Steve and then up at James. “I know it’s been hard.” Steve’s gaze fell and James swallowed. “But soon you’ll have ‘em back. And despite what you two might be thinking, they’re lucky to have you.” 

Steve opened his mouth to protest and Sarah gave him  _ The Look _ . It was the very same look Steve used on others but this was the raw, pure, original form and he shut up immediately. 

“And I’m glad you have them. I like what they do to you,” she said, kissing each of their cheeks. “Now go get some sleep so I can have all my boys back again.” 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Love?” Steve said at the same time that James said, “Solnyshko?”

The next time Tony woke up he could see light shining through the small window in the room. Every day that past he lost even more hope of ever getting out. Clint and he were on the same page on that, which was a very unfortunate thing to have in common with someone else. They stayed close to each other, both finding some comfort in the physical contact. 

“I’m sick of feeling cold,” Tony said to himself. 

Seconds later he felt Clint tap his shoulder and give him a questioning look. 

“Sorry. I said I’m sick of feeling cold. It’s always toasty warm in Steve’s, well, in  _ our _ home.” 

Before Clint could say anything, the guards brought them their daily ration of food. It didn’t escape Tony’s attention that they came in with two additional guards who both carried guns. It was probably to intimidate Tony and Clint and make them think twice about trying anything again. 

While he slowly ate his potato, Tony thought about it. Was there anything they  _ could _ try? Seeing as they were even weaker than before and, not to mention, injured, it seemed impossible to plan anything. And what were their options now that there were more guards who made sure to knock on their door every now and then to remind them that they were out there?

None. They had no more options. 

  
  


+

  
  


“Two to the left, one to the right,” Steve said later that night, pulling his head back around to be hidden from view. 

They had passed the warehouse in question and parked two blocks away, leaving the ambulance in an alley where it wouldn’t draw attention. It was too dark and cold for anyone to be out anyway. 

They were one block away now, standing behind another warehouse to shield themselves from view and from the harsh cold wind lashing at their faces as it blew across the East River. 

James left strategizing to Steve, it was his specialty and something for which he had earned his rank during the war.

With a few more directions from Steve, the four men descended on the warehouse, quiet as a church mouse but considerably deadlier. 

James went for the solo man, his knife sailing through the air with deadly precision and burying itself in the back of his head. The man dropped into the snow with a soft crunch and James took his weapon and carried on. Dmitri at James’ three o’clock across the street was crossing now to enter the building with him. 

Before they got inside, James clocked the sound of two more bodies hitting the snow and then Steve and Dugan rounded the corner to slip inside with them. 

They took the stairs in pairs, Steve and James in front, Dugan and Dmitri behind. Once inside they made quick, silent work of the few men, picking them off one by one. 

They were spotted by one who fired off a shot, quickly alerting the others but thankfully, by that time there were only four left and only two had guns, the others knives. Within a few seconds, the men were down and the room was silent. 

James pushed his hair back out of his face and sheathed his knife; Steve holstered his gun. They made a beeline for the hallway where they assumed their guys were being kept in one of the rooms. They weren’t sure where Bakuto was but they figured he wasn’t at the warehouse at night but that was alright. Their hostage hadn’t spared any information. 

Steve indicated with two fingers for Dmitri and Dugan to sweep and re-secure the building and the perimeter and they immediately headed off. 

There was only one closed office door. James knocked on it and heard nothing. He turned to Steve who nodded and reached for the handle but it was locked. James stepped back and with one powerful kick Steve broke down the door, both of them peering in, the rush of emotion almost too much and Steve swayed a little on his feet. 

“Love?” Steve said at the same time that James said,  _ “Solnyshko?” _

  
  


Clint had his arms wrapped around Tony tightly, holding himself securely. The moment the gun shot had popped off, Tony had woken and tapped Clint’s shoulder to let him know something was happening. 

Judging by the look in Tony’s eyes, Clint and he were thinking the same thing—this was it. They were no longer going to be of use or that man who had made Clint phone James was tired of waiting and would look for a new way to get what he wanted. 

They were saying their goodbyes when there was a knock on the door. Or at least Clint figured that was what happened judging by the way Tony flinched. He pulled him in closer, hoping it would be a quick death. 

The door was forced open and then James and Steve were standing in front of them and Clint wasn’t sure if he was dead or alive. 

“James?” Clint croaked, his eyes stinging with the threat of tears and then they fell down his cheeks. “James?” he asked again, trying to stand but too weak and hurt to do so. 

James and Steve came in slowly, first turning on the light switch that was located outside the room. It was suddenly too bright and Clint and Tony winced but didn’t look away from Steve and James. 

Each man went to his respective partner, crouching down in front of him and pulling them into their arms. 

“Oh, love,” Steve said, his voice thick with tears and relief as he pulled Tony gently into his arms and then lifted him off the ground. 

“I’m going to pick you up,” James said to Clint who watched his lips and then went to his eyes, being flooded with happiness, and he nodded. James lifted Clint the same way Steve had Tony, cradling him in his arms. 

They were both so thin and tired-looking and it broke Steve and James’ hearts. Steve swallowed back a wave of emotion at how light Tony felt in his arms. He should have never felt like this in Steve’s arms again. 

James struggled a little more to get his own reaction under control. The pure rage and hatred that washed over him when he realized he could feel all of Clint’s ribs so easily was almost overwhelming. 

“We’re getting out of here,” Steve said, carrying Tony out of the room, James following with Clint. 

Outside, Dmitri and Dugan were in the ambulance and had pulled it up to the loading zone entrance that didn’t require stairs. Clint and Tony were carefully laid on the stretchers in the back of the ambulance and the doors were shut. 

“Take us to the hospital,” James said, his fingers in Clint’s hair, his thumb gently stroking his forehead. Clint slowly closed his eyes and drifted off, as did Tony while Steve pressed kisses to his knuckles. 

  
  


It all happened so fast that Tony didn’t quite know if it was real or not. It was overwhelming and too good to be true, wasn’t it? One moment he was clinging to Clint and the next there was Steve. Steve!  _ His  _ Steve! All these thoughts flooded Tony the moment he was coming to. He sat up quickly, immediately regretting it. 

It was so bright. Too bright to handle after weeks in dim light and darkness. He covered his eyes and recognized the smell of alcohol and disinfectant, which was so very different from the stuffy, airless room he had been locked in with Clint. 

Tony looked to his left where Clint had been just moments ago and when he couldn’t see him panic rose inside of him. Before he could give into it there was a hand on his shoulder. A firm grip but not one that hurt. He was gently pushed back down in his bed. A bed? Only then he realized he was in an actual bed. In a hospital bed. One glance to his right and there he was. 

“Steve!” Tony said carefully, as if saying that name out loud might wake him from this beautiful dream. 

“Hi, love,” Steve answered, his grin impossible to stop and it spread wide across his entire face. He brushed Tony’s hair away from his forehead and pressed a kiss there. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.” 

“You’re really here.” Tony rested a hand on top of Steve’s. The forehead kiss added several years to his life, he was sure of it. 

“I am,” he reassured him, giving Tony’s hand a squeeze. 

“Where’s Clint? Is he okay?” 

Steve glanced up at the clock. “Should be coming out of surgery. His leg was in worse shape than we thought but he should be fine. James is with him.” 

Tony allowed himself to relax a little. Clint was okay. They were taking care of him. And they were safe. They didn’t die. He clung to Steve’s hand and closed his eyes in an attempt to keep the tears at bay. “I missed you so much,” he whispered, his voice cracking.

“I missed you too,” Steve said, sitting on the bed beside him so he could pull Tony against his side as gently as possible. He pressed kisses into his hair, not caring that he needed a shower. This was Tony,  _ his  _ Tony, and he was just happy to have him back. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again. Not for a second. Get used to having an extra shadow.” 

Tony choked out a laugh which was the last straw. He let go of the tears he had been holding in and cried in the safety of Steve’s arms, in the privacy that they had. He didn’t care about his injuries or how he looked. All he had wanted during captivity was to be in Steve’s arms. 

When he had no tears left, a wave of exhaustion came over him. “Is it… do I have to stay here long?” he asked, with what little strength he had left. He didn’t want to sleep again. He needed to see Clint and make sure that he was okay.

“Not too long but a while,” Steve said, his expression and tone apologetic. “A couple days at least. You need the fluids and more medical experience than I or ma can offer.” Steve pressed a kiss to his eyebrow. “Sleep, love. I’ll get Dugan to bring you some food.”

Tony nodded, nuzzling his face into the fabric of Steve’s clothes. “Do you think they’ll let me shower? And brush my teeth?” Those were logical and rational thoughts, things he knew were part of his routine, but if he was completely honest, he didn’t care about any of it. Too long he had been away from Steve. “What about you? Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

“You can do whatever you want but I’d prefer you eat and drink a little first. Just to give myself some peace of mind, if that’s alright with you,” Steve said, calling Dugan in, who was keeping guard outside the door, to send him off with a food order before he answered Tony’s other questions. “I’m fine, I had the others with me. Not a scratch. Thank you for worrying though.” 

If that was what it would take to get back to feeling somewhat normal, he would agree to it. 

“Alright,” he conceded with a small nod. He pulled away to look at Steve, making sure that he was truly unharmed. He looked tired, maybe thinner, but he was unharmed. 

Dugan came in with a tray of food and gave Tony a sincere smile. It was so good to see him again. He even filled a glass of water for Tony to drink and then he was gone again, leaving Steve and him alone. In front of him was a bowl of soup, a bread roll, and some butter. If he never saw bread again it would still be too soon. 

As promised he ate and drank a little, making Steve drink a little too. It helped him feel less controlled and watched, even though he knew that Steve only meant well. 

Steve got up to speak to the nurses about his end of the bargain. They provided a chair for Tony to sit on, brought a fresh set of hospital clothes and some towels. It all looked like they would wash him, which scared Tony more than he would admit. He gave Steve a pleading look and Steve dismissed the nurses, saying he would help Tony. 

Once out of his clothes and in the bright light of the bathroom in his room, Tony saw himself in the mirror and flinched. That couldn’t be him! He looked nothing like that! There was the shadow of a beard on his face, he looked exhausted and all the colors of the rainbow were on his body. 

He stepped backwards, trying to pry his eyes away from his reflection. Hideous. That was what he looked like. And not like himself. 

“I’ve seen you look worse,” Steve said from behind Tony, leaning against the doorframe, his hands in his pockets and expression soft. “Shocking as it may seem. And I fell in love with you then. These injuries… they make me sick because of the thought of you in pain but you’re still my beautiful Tony. Nothing’s changing that.” 

“That’s different. I wasn’t aware of it back then,” he mumbled, his arms wrapped around himself. He could feel his bones sticking out. “Can you… turn off the lights? I’ll shower and be right outside with you.” He stared down to the floor, hoping that Steve wouldn’t try to fight him on something for once.

“Of course, love.” 

He turned off the lights but didn’t leave the bathroom, which was probably a good idea. Tony washed himself as much as his aching body would let him. It wasn’t much but anything was better than the state he was in before. He brushed his teeth quickly, despite how dizzy and drowsy he was at that point. 

Steve helped him get dressed and back into bed. “I want to wait for Clint,” Tony mumbled, rubbing his tired eyes. “Can you keep me awake?”

“You bet,” Steve said just as there was a knock on the door. 

_ One hour earlier  _

“Clint? Baby?” James said, leaning on Clint’s bed, holding one of Clint’s hands between his own, continually pressing his knuckles to his lips. 

He should’ve been waking up. It had been long enough for the anesthesia to wear off. Of course James took into consideration the fact that he was probably exhausted but still, he needed to hear him speak and know he was alright and then he would let Clint sleep as much and for as long as he wanted. 

He had slipped Clint’s spare hearing aids onto his ears and turned the volume down low enough that it would register but hopefully not shock him, having learned the volume he normally kept them on. 

“Clint, please,” he pleaded, resting his forehead on Clint’s shoulder where there was no bruising. 

“Mng,” Clint grumbled, not fully awake but James would take it. He felt his heart skip a couple beats and then he felt a laugh bubble up out of him, relieved and in pain all at once. 

_ “I’m so glad you’re alright, Clint, my baby, I’m so sorry,”  _ he said quickly in Russian, needing to speak to undo the tightness in his chest. 

Clint’s head rolled slowly to the side, his eyes opening. There was that beautiful dark blue James loved so much. He leaned forward to press a kiss right between his eyebrows and then another to his cheekbone and finally one to Clint’s lips. 

“No,” Clint protested softly and James pulled away immediately, terrified that he had hurt Clint more. 

“What? What did I do?” 

Clint’s tired expression cleared and made way for that lopsided smile that had first taken James’ breath away. “I haven’t brushed my teeth in weeks. I taste bad.” 

“You taste perfect.” 

“Liar,” he laughed, wincing and James’ hand moved to his forehead to steady him, his fingers moving down to gently caress his cheek. “I feel like shit. What happened?” 

“They had to reset your leg. Your tibia was fractured and had started to heal incorrectly. They checked your ribs as well.”

“What’s the damage?” 

“Two fractures and the rest are just bruised. You’ll be able to laugh at your own jokes soon enough,” James reassured him with a gentle smile, his fingers still on Clint’s face just in case James blinked too long and he disappeared. He needed the constant contact to convince himself Clint was back and real. 

Clint nodded. “And Tony? Please tell me he’s alright.” 

“He’s fine. Malnourished and dehydrated, like you, a few bruises and a fractured rib too but otherwise fine.” 

Clint nodded again, closing his eyes and letting the reality of the situation hit him. He was safe, Tony was safe; they were back with James and Steve. Those men were dead and he— 

“Did you, um,” he said, opening his eyes to find James watching him with an emotion Clint had never really seen on anyone’s face before. It made him stammer. “I… Uh.” James smiled. “Did you get him? The man behind it all?” 

“I didn’t, no. Natalia did.” 

Clint’s eyes widened. “What? You let—you sent  _ Natalia _ after him? James, I—”

“Shh, shh,” he said gently, listening to the heart monitor beep frantically as Clint spoke and tried to sit up again. He placed a hand on Clint’s chest and gently guided him back down again. “She wanted something to do and she took some of my men with her. If she can sneak up on me and after I saw what she did to Loki, there was no doubt in my mind that she could handle Bakuto and we were able to find out where his main office was. Besides, neither Steve nor I were going to miss out on being there to bring you two home and we couldn’t let him get away.” 

“But he’s secure? And Nat’s fine?” 

“Ask her yourself,” he said, indicating with his chin towards the door and Clint turned to see his favorite girl leaning there with a smile and watery eyes. She came over quickly and bent to press kisses to Clint’s face. 

She wrapped her arms around his neck as loosely as possible, putting no weight on him to hug him. “I was so worried.” She kissed the side of his head and then pulled back. “I’m so glad you’re alright. And yes, Bakuto has been handled. He won’t be going anywhere.” 

“Hi, Nat.” She grinned and hooked her fingers around his when he offered them. “So, he’s not dead?” 

James’ expression darkened. “No, not yet. Steve and I have some unfinished business.” 

“Say no more. But he, uh…” Clint trailed off again and looked away, cursing himself for the way his body was reacting, his eyes shining with tears and breath hitching. James and Natalia both squeezed the hand they were holding, waiting patiently. “He can’t get to us, right?” he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper, one single tear falling down his cheek that James was quick to wipe away with a thumb. 

Clint hated how scared he sounded and felt. He  _ hated _ it. But he also knew that he could be this way in front of these two people and they would never judge him. 

“Never. Where he is, no one has ever left unless they were in a body bag,” James said, a viciousness underlining his tone that gave Clint confidence. 

“Not to mention I shot him three times in the leg. So no, he won’t be going anywhere, let alone near you or Tony,” Nat said, sounding just as protective as James. It was weird hearing Tony’s name come from Nat’s mouth. Those were two worlds that hadn’t collided yet in Clint’s mind. 

“Can I see him? Tony?” 

“I’d like you to eat something first. Would you want to try to wash up a little? There’s only so much you can do but it might make you feel better,” James asked. 

Clint nodded. 

James and Natalia both helped him into a wheelchair and then into the en suite bathroom, handing him a toothbrush while they helped him strip down without putting any weight on the injured leg. They each grabbed a sponge and were Clint less tired he would’ve protested being treated like he couldn’t clean himself but now he relished in the moment, not having to do anything more than brush his teeth and then wash his face. 

When he was somewhat cleaner and had eaten all he could manage of a meal, James turned to Clint and asked, “Do you still want to see him?” Clint nodded again. “Would you mind asking Steve if that’s alright?” 

Natalia nodded and disappeared. 

  
  


_ Now _

Steve looked over at the door and said, “Come in,” assuming it was Sarah or Dugan again. He was pleasantly surprised to find that he was wrong. 

“Rogers,” Natalia said in her deep voice, her eyes flickering quickly to Tony and she offered him the warmest smile she had. 

“Barton,” he replied, realizing that was going to be confusing now that there were two of them again. “Natalia. How did it go?” 

Natalia knew what he was talking about and nodded, deciding to say no more of the subject with Tony in the room, not sure how he would take it. “Clint wants to know if he can come see Tony.” 

“I think that would be a grand idea, though, maybe we should come to you. What with his leg and all. Would you be up for that? I’ll wheel you over,” Steve asked Tony. 

Tony was half asleep despite keeping his eyes open. If they gave him a few more minutes he would be able to fall asleep without even closing his eyes. 

“Yeah,” he managed and nodded. He would just quickly check up on Clint. Luckily, he was right next door. It was weird not having him in the same room. 

“I heard you asked for a single room because you got sick of me?” Tony joked weakly. 

James helped Clint sit up and Clint paused, tilting his head to the side in wonder. “That’s not at all how I thought you would sound. It’s better. I like it.” Clint grinned. “And I told you I wanted you out so I could have all the bread to myself. You were warned,” he teased, reaching his hand out to Tony and squeezing tightly when he grabbed it. 

Tony held onto Clint’s hand and shook his head. “I forgot you couldn’t hear my voice. It’s nice to meet you properly.” He shook Clint’s hand, suddenly feeling weird with all the people around them. “Well, not really because you still need a shave.” 

He felt tired, exhausted even, his whole body demanding rest and warmth. 

“You too. And, I, uh,” Clint winced and turned to James. “Click that morphine for me, sweetheart?” The pain meds they had given him were wearing off and the feeling of everything was coming back in full force. He turned back to Tony. “I have a buncha questions. Remind me some time?” Clint’s eyes were nearly closed as the morphine kicked in. 

James and Steve exchanged a look, both of their fellas almost asleep where they were. Steve put a gentle hand on Tony’s shoulder and James took Clint’s hand, both of them saying the same thing: perhaps it was time to get some more rest. 

“You two have forever to catch up,” Steve reassured them, his hands gripping the wheelchair handles now.

Tony nodded, rubbing his tired, burning eyes. He gave Clint’s hand another squeeze before letting it go and Steve wheeled him back into his room. The relief he felt over Clint being okay and able to hear again helped Tony to relax a little more. 

“Steve?” he mumbled, “did you find the tags?”

Steve helped Tony back into the bed, happy that the visit seemed to have done him some good. “I did. Smart move, love,” he told him, pressing another kiss to his forehead. “You want them now?” 

He hummed at the kiss, reaching out blindly to rest a hand on his shoulder. “No, please don’t go. Even if I sleep, please stay.” 

“I told you I’m never letting you out of my sight again,” Steve repeated, reaching into his waistcoat pocket to pull out the dog tags and put them into Tony’s hand. 

Steve kicked off his shoes and unbuttoned his shirt sleeves, rolling them up to his elbows as he climbed into the oversized hospital bed with Tony, pulling him onto his chest. 

“Get some rest. I’m not going anywhere.” He kissed his hair and listened to Tony’s breathing even out as he fell asleep. 

In the room next door, James let Natalia have some time with Clint, watching with a fond smile as she climbed into the bed with him and curled up. James went to check in with Dmitri who was taking turns with Dugan to check on their prisoner and make sure he didn’t bleed out before they could get to him. 

  
  


Much to everyone’s relief, both of them slept through the night. They had no doubt that it was a combination of exhaustion, strong pain meds, and a feeling of security. They all knew that nightmares would soon become an even more regular part of their nights soon, but for now they were just grateful the two of them managed one night. Little victories. 

Clint woke first, the pain in his leg demanding his attention. Natalia was still curled up beside him, reading quietly and hit the clicker that gave him another dose of morphine. James was on the other side of the bed in a chair reading the paper. 

“Hungry?” he asked Clint who was wearing his hearing aids despite having been asleep. He refused to remove them. 

Clint turned his head at the sound, seeming to have forgotten where he was and with whom. James saw the realization flash across his face and it made his chest ache. He got up and came over to sit on the side of the bed, take his hand and with his other cradle Clint’s face. 

“You’re safe,” he said, Clint’s eyes watching his face as he spoke. “We’ve got you. Hungry?” 

Clint’s breathing slowed and he relaxed into the bed again, Natalia pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Yeah,” he said, looking around. 

“Anything in particular?” 

Clint smiled. “Jello?” 

James nodded, kissed him, and disappeared. Clint turned to Natalia, intertwining their fingers and she raised his hand to kiss the back of it, talking to him while they waited for James to return. 

In Tony’s room, Dugan was bringing in a tray of breakfast foods for Tony and Steve. Steve thanked him, shifting carefully but it woke up Tony. 

“Sorry, love. I was trying not to wake you,” Steve said, reaching for a piece of toast. With Tony safe again, Steve’s hunger became a lot harder to ignore. He took a bite, wiping his mouth with a serviette before pressing a kiss to Tony’s cheek.

Tony woke up panicked, only that his panic was silent, showing in his eyes. Hearing Steve’s voice helped. 

“Is there some water?” he mumbled and sat up, wincing when his ribs hurt. “Is Clint okay?”

“Yeah, here you go,” Steve said, pouring him a glass and handing it to him after helping him sit up a little more. Steve looked toward the door while Tony drank. “Not sure. Haven’t spoken to anyone yet this morning. I’ll ask Dugan to check in.” 

Steve slid out of bed and opened the door only to see James who was passing by on his way to bring Clint some breakfast. 

“Mornin’,” Steve called and James paused and turned around. “He okay?”

James nodded, looking into Tony’s room with a smile as he answered. “His leg hurts but he was alright enough to ask for jello. How are you doing?”

It was so casual, so normal. Steve got up without hesitation, not having to fear for Tony and then right there was James too. “I’m okay,” Tony answered. “Clint is a great guy, James.”

James’ smile widened. He constantly told Clint that he didn’t care if the others liked him or not because  _ he _ liked him but hearing that come from Tony did warm his heart. So maybe he cared a little bit. 

“I know,” James said, “I got lucky with him. He thinks pretty highly of you too, told me you kept him sane. Thank you and I’ll let him know you’re alright. He’ll be happy to hear it.” 

“It was definitely nice to not be alone.” Tony gave him another small smile and James nodded and left, closing the door behind him. 

Tony turned to look at Steve. “Is it over?” he asked carefully. It was a question he didn’t really want to ask but knew he had to if he wanted closure. “Are you going to be okay too?”

Steve took Tony’s hand and nodded. “The man behind it all, we have him. James and I have… unfinished business with him but we’re all safe. It’s over,” Steve promised. 

Tony wrapped his arms around Steve as much as he could, not even caring about the pain in his body, simply needing all the physical contact he could get. “I missed you. God, I missed you so much.” He took several deep breaths, inhaling Steve’s scent, focusing on the warmth he felt radiating from his body. After a minute or two he let go again and looked in his eyes. “How’s Benni? And Sarah? Can I see them?”

“I missed you too. So much, all the time,” Steve said, tilting Tony’s chin up to kiss him before he answered. “They’re fine, both of them and eager to see you too. Whenever you’d like and Dugan or Jones can go pick them up.” 

He hummed into the kiss. It was so simple and yet everything he had missed. “Alright. I just… I’ll need a nap. And maybe a little more water?” He knew that there was food in front of him but for some unknown reason he was hesitant to actually eat. There was so much going on in his body and head that he couldn’t focus on one thing.

“Here,” Steve said, handing him another filled glass. “Sleep, my love, and whenever you’re feeling up to it, I’ll make the call. One more before you sleep.” He gently held Tony’s chin between his thumb and index finger, turning him to kiss him again. How he had missed him. His voice, his smile, his laugh! He had missed those big brown eyes that seemed so soft and warm when Steve looked into them. He’d missed Tony’s touches and kisses. 

He broke the kiss but rested his forehead against Tony’s, his eyes closed, breathing slowly, deeply. “I’m so happy to have you back.” He pressed their lips together once more and then told Tony to get some sleep. 

They settled into a comfortable position in which Steve could still reach the tray to eat while Tony was curled up against his side, making himself as small as possible, enjoying the warmth and security. He fell asleep easily. His sleep was still very light but luckily not a lot was happening, giving him the opportunity to rest up. 

Tony woke to the sound of someone putting a heavy bag down.

“Tony!” Benni yelled as soon as he saw his brother was awake, climbing right away on top of the bed. “ _ I missed you so much. Please don’t leave again for this long!” _

Before he could register what was happening, Benni started crying and Tony instinctively wrapped his arms around him, comforting him. 

It was Sarah who helped him calm his brother down, one hand on his back and one hand on Tony’s shoulder and now Tony had his family back around him. 

“Little one, let’s eat with Tony. Go wash up and be sure to wash your hands,” Sarah said in her motherly tone. She was exactly why Tony didn’t ever have to worry about his brother for a single second. 

“I bought some soup. It’s loaded with all the good things all of you need to get your strength back.” Tony sat up with the help of Steve and watched him and his mother make room for everyone to sit and eat. Sarah disappeared to bring the rest of the food over to James and Clint. 

Hospital breakfast was nothing he actually wanted to eat after weeks of dry, tasteless food but Sarah’s rich and colorful soup full of vegetables and  _ real _ meat? That was something he couldn’t say no to. With every spoonful he hummed in delight and was first to finish his portion.

“You smell that?” James asked Clint, tilting his own nose up and then turning towards the door, listening to the familiar sounds of Sarah’s shoes coming down the hallway. 

“Dmitri bringing some of your stew?” Clint asked. He was awake again and feeling better despite his leg. He at least felt rested for the first time in weeks and that morning he’d nearly eaten his weight in jello. Didn’t mean he wasn’t hungry again though. 

“No, my food has never smelled that good,” James chuckled. “Sarah’s here.” 

Clint’s expression lit up enough to make James laugh and he got up to greet her with cheek kisses and a firm hug. She returned it and headed for Clint. 

“Hi, Mrs Rogers,” Clint said, grinning up at her. 

Sarah sat the food down and then turned to give Clint a look that made him laugh. “You call me that one more time and this’ll be the last meal ya get from me, lad.” 

“Sorry,” Clint said but he was still smiling, as was Sarah. 

She leaned down and gently gave him a hug, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I’m so glad you’re alright,” she said softly, pulling away after a moment to brush his hair back and Clint nearly fell into her lap at the motherly touch. It had been  _ so long _ . He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d seen his mother, let alone gotten a hug. 

He swallowed past the sudden tears and the lump in his throat and managed a smile but it was sad and his lip trembled. 

“Aw, pet. Don’t cry,” she consoled him, taking his hand. James watched on quietly, standing on the other side, his hand a comforting weight on Clint’s shoulder. “There’s plenty of me to go around. I’m gonna head back and see Tony but I’ll drift between the rooms, alright?” 

Clint nodded, Sarah pressed another kiss to his forehead, and then she was gone. James was making Clint a bowl of the soup when Clint turned to him and said, “Thank you.” 

“What for?” he asked, tasting the soup himself before blowing on another spoonful to offer Clint. 

Clint ate the food offered and then said, “For introducing me to your family.” 

  
  


+

  
  


That was how the days at the hospital went by. Sarah brought one meal a day, Steve stayed by Tony’s side and James by Clint’s as much as they could, and they slept, healed, and felt more like themselves. They both still had a long way to go but for now Tony could leave the hospital.

“What about Clint? Is he gonna be able to leave soon? I don’t…” He wanted to say that he didn’t want Clint to be alone when he remembered that James and Dmitri were there too. Still, it felt wrong to leave Clint. 

Steve looked over at Tony, he was getting the wheelchair ready. “Not just yet, love. Doctors want to keep him for at least another week. We can go by and see him on the way out, though.” 

Tony eyed the wheelchair and looked over to the wall that was separating him from Clint. It was very weird to be without him. Even though he got to curl up with Steve every night, which was much better and everything he had wanted, there was still a noticeable absence. “Alright.” He took Steve’s hand and sat down in the wheelchair. 

They headed to Clint’s room and as soon as he was close enough to him, he took Clint’s hand. “If I didn’t hate hospitals so much I’d stay to keep you company.”

“Aw,” Clint teased, “you kinda like me, huh?” He gave Tony’s hand a quick squeeze for both of their sakes. It was already strange not seeing Tony at all hours of the day but now he would be miles away and he wouldn’t even be able to see him a few times a day. 

“Yeah, kinda. You kinda grew on me,” Tony said and snorted. “You do have James and Natalia though.” He’d only met her briefly but Benni had told him a lot about her.

“Yeah, they're  _ alright _ , I guess,” Clint teased and both of them rolled their eyes, “but I won’t lie and say I’m not gonna miss you. Like a lot.”

“I’ll visit if Steve lets me. And if he doesn’t, I’ll make Sarah look at him mean and tag along with her on her visits.” He held onto his hand and took a deep breath. He didn’t like the idea of being this far away from Clint.

“Hear that? I grew on him,” Clint said, grinning over at Natalia who was sitting at the end of the bed by his good foot. 

“Rashes also grow on people,” she retorted and James snorted. Even Steve cracked a smile. 

“You two are rude. I’m going to live with Tony,” Clint said, pouting and James leaned forward to kiss his cheek. Clint turned back to Tony. “But yes, please visit and then maybe once I’m allowed to leave, we should plan that meal.” He looked up at Steve too who nodded his agreement.

“Very rude indeed. You can move in but the thing is that I’m living in Steve’s house.” He pointed to Steve with his thumb. “Yeah, better let me know in advance so I can get a dry bread roll and spam for our favorite meal.” Just the thought of it made him sick. Joking about it with Clint didn’t hurt though. “I’ll see you soon, alright?”

“Mmm, sounds delicious and that meal plan did wonders for my figure,” he joked, because if he didn’t laugh he might tear up. He stroked his thumb over the back of Tony’s hand, reluctant to let go although he knew he had to. “Yeah, see you soon. Get home safe, both of you.”

“That was terrible and you should be ashamed.” Tony had to laugh about it, simply because it made it easier. He waved goodbye to everyone on their way out. 

Before heading out into the cold Steve wrapped Tony in his coat and Dugan opened the car door for him. It was nice to not be exposed to the icy wind. 

Steve and he sat in the back of the car and his free hand was wrapped around Steve’s dog tags that were now back around his neck. There was an uneasiness inside of him even though he was safe as could be. The outside world simply seemed to be even less trustworthy than before and Tony couldn’t wait to get back to the place where he was allowed to heal and be taken care of. 

Back at home he was greeted with a plate of freshly baked cookies, the smell of herbs and garlic, and long hugs from Benni and Sarah. 

Steve was adamant about taking care of Tony. So much so that he wouldn’t even let him climb the stairs because it caused him discomfort. He also helped Tony change. It was overwhelming Tony with too many emotions, making him give in to Steve’s coddling. 

After weeks in small confined rooms with zero privacy he found his home way too big and confusing. There was so much going on! Benni told Tony story after story while they drank tea and ate cookies before dinner. Steve wouldn’t let him lift a finger and Sarah kept looking at him in a way that Tony couldn’t quite interpret. 

His breathing sped up and he felt hot and cold at the same time. Was the room spinning? Or was it him? Tony couldn’t tell. 

“Tony? What’s going on?” Benni asked, which made everything worse. 

Tony got up and stumbled to the closest corner and sat down there with his back against the wall as he tried to catch his breath. From far away he could hear Benni but he couldn’t focus on the words, no matter how much he wanted to.

Steve approached slowly, unsure, and crouched down in front of Tony, keeping his voice low and speaking slowly. “What do you need?” he asked him. 

Tony closed his eyes, forcing himself to slow his breathing down before answering. “Quiet?” he asked, his breath still hitching. “It’s too much,” he whispered. 

Steve stood and gently asked Benni and his mother to leave the room for now, closing the doors to the room and turning off the record that had been playing in the background. He came back over to Tony and sat down cross-legged in front of him. 

“Better? Or should I go as well?” 

“No, don’t go! Please!” Tony reached out to take Steve’s hand and clung to it. The thought of not having Steve around him was scary. Or did he  _ want _ to go? Was Tony too much of a mess? Should he talk about why it was too much? “I’m sorry. It was nice with everyone,” he whispered, out of habit. 

“I’m not going anywhere, love. I just want you comfortable,” Steve said softly, moving closer to Tony, soothingly massaging the hand he held, hitting pressure points that he knew of in hopes of relaxing him. “You’ve got nothing to apologize for, you’ve been through something unimaginably difficult. This is natural and I’m here for you. Whatever you do or don’t need.” 

“I’m comfortable with you,” he said, focusing on the soft touches on his hand. “I’m sorry. I want to be good but I just got scared?” Tony looked up and Steve moved to hug him. Yes, that was much better. “I definitely needed that,” he mumbled, a small smile on his lips. 

“You don’t need to be anything but comfortable, alright? And everyone here understands that. Take your time,” Steve whispered, pressing a kiss to Tony’s hair and then slowly pulling him into his lap. “I’ve got you. Always.” 

+

The doctors wanted to keep Clint at the hospital for another two days just to monitor his leg and make sure that the bone was setting correctly. Clint was going out of his mind in his hospital bed, sick of the fluorescent lighting and the perpetual smell of chemicals. He was tired of not being able to go to the bathroom on his own and he was ready for a proper bath and a shave. He was also tired of the nightmares and the unpredictable moments where this deep sense of impending doom would overtake him and leave him spaced out and hyperventilating. 

He had had his fair share of nightmares from the war and he knew, with a lot of convincing from James, that he wasn’t weak, he was suffering; suffering from battle fatigue, as they called it, but this was a whole new ball game. And what was worse were the times when he woke up completely disoriented, looked around for Tony only to not find him and immediately lapse into an unshakeable panic until James could calm him and remind him that he was safe, they were both safe, and Tony was at home. 

“I’m so sick of this place,” Clint complained on his second to last day, his face turned into James’ side who had crawled into the bed beside him. 

James was moving his fingers lightly over Clint’s back, drawing circles and other shapes to calm and comfort him. Only an hour ago, Clint had woken up thrashing, having dreamt that the men had come in again, and he tore out his IV. 

Now he was still coming down from the anxiety spike, feeling tired and achy. His eyes burned every time he blinked but at the moment, sleep was not a welcome alternative to being awake. His appetite came and went but at least he seemed to be gaining his weight back. 

“I know,  _ solnyshko, _ you won’t have to be here much longer. I just don’t want to do anything to jeopardize your recovery,” James said softly, pressing a kiss to his hair and then another to his forehead. Clint hummed in appreciation for the forehead kiss and James gave him a few more, looking up when he heard someone knock on the door.

Clint didn’t turn, sure that it was Natalia or Dmitri and he just wasn’t in the mood for company but with them he knew they would understand that he still appreciated their presence. 

“Hello, my lovelies,” Sarah said and Clint did turn to look at her, offering her the best smile that he could manage and she returned it, coming over to sit on the side of the bed. Clint sat up a little more, craning his neck to see behind her but the door was closed. Sarah frowned slightly, a hand on his ankle. “He wasn’t quite up for a visit today.”

Clint deflated some, trying not to be completely rude and turn away from her but he could have done with a visit from Tony today. That might have been nice. He was still happy to see Sarah though. 

“Hi,” he said at the same time that James greeted her. 

“How are you both?” she asked, reaching up to tuck a piece of Clint’s hair behind his ear. It had grown long and he was in dire need of a haircut as well as the shave. James had promised both the moment they were able to leave the hospital. “I brought a few baked goods, including those muffins I know you like so much.” 


End file.
